Aftermath
by HoneyBooBoo93
Summary: After the sudden death of his wife, Burt Hummel had no clue how to raise his eight year old son alone. However, in the weeks and months after her death, the two Hummel men learned more about each other than they ever expected. A drabble series following Burt and Kurt just after the death of Mrs. Hummel.
1. First Day of School

Burt Hummel beamed with pride as he walked Kurt down the hall to his classroom. It was the first day of third grade, and it was also the first day of school without Elizabeth. She had been gone a little over a month, and it had taken a toll on both of them. He had lost over 10 pounds, and Kurt had pulled away from him and had trouble sleeping at night. He was doing his best, he just wasn't sure if it was good enough.

He pushed the thoughts aside as he reached the classroom. He gave Kurt a gentle push inside where his teacher was waiting. He had showed up a few days before to explain everything to her and make sure she knew how to reach him in case anything happened. She finished up talking to another parent and came over to them, and bent down so she was on eye level with Kurt. She was older, like a grandma, and Burt knew she knew what she was doing.

"Hi, Kurt," she greeted, holding out her hand. "I'm Mrs. Marshall. Are you excited?" Kurt hesitated, and then nodded. She offered him a sweet smile. "Good. Come over here, you can hang up your backpack and lunchbox on your hook." She led him off, and Burt stood off to the side, watching them interact. The kid just seemed _happy_, and he hadn't been able to see that side of him since it happened. Mrs. Marshall brought him back over to him. "We're about to get started, Kurt, so tell your dad you'll see him this afternoon." Kurt's smile vanished and he grabbed his hand.

"Dad, don't go," he pleaded. "Can't you stay?" he bent down to look Kurt in the eyes.

"Kurt, it's gonna be okay," he told him. "I have to go to work, but at 2:45 you're gonna get on the bus, and then once you get off you're gonna walk two blocks to the garage, and I'll be waiting for you. I can't stay with you today, but you're gonna have fun and be busy the whole time, and it'll fly by, I promise. Can you try to focus on having fun today?" Kurt nodded, still looking upset. Burt hugged him and kissed him on the cheek. "I love you, kiddo. You're gonna have a good time today, and I'll be waiting for you after school. I want to hear all about it."

"Okay. Love you," Kurt replied. Burt stood up and patted him on the shoulder before heading out.

"Let me know if there's any problems today," he told the teacher.

"I will, but I'm sure he's going to be fine," she assured him. He thanked her and then left for the garage.

He was working in his office most of the day, and he kept his phone close by in case Mrs. Marshall winded up calling. He couldn't stop worrying and wondering what was going on, what was happening, and how Kurt was doing. School was let out at 2:45, so he took a break to go wait for him. Twenty minutes later, Kurt rounded the corner and came running when he saw him. Burt smiled and held out his arms. Kurt jumped up into his embrace and smiled.

"Hey, buddy! Did you have a good day?" he asked. Kurt nodded.

"Uh huh! We went to music class and I got to sing and Mrs. Marshall picked me to be the first line leader and at recess we got to play on the brand new playground and it's huge!" he exclaimed. It meant more than words to Burt that he actually had a good day. He had been stressing out for weeks about school.

"So you like the third grade, huh?" he said. Kurt nodded enthusiastically. "I'm glad. You want to go have dinner at Breadstix to celebrate a good first day?" Kurt nodded again, and Burt set him down to go back inside the garage. "Do you have any homework?"

"A paper for you to sign, but that's it." They went into Burt's office, and he read and signed the form for him.

"There you go. Can you wait a little bit while I finish up here, and then we'll go?" he asked. Kurt nodded and pulled his reading book out of his backpack. Burt got back to work, watching him out of the corner of his eye. He missed seeing his little boy genuinely happy, and it meant the world to him that he was already enjoying school and having fun. He knew the sting from Elizabeth's sudden death was still there, but he could tell that things were finally taking a step in the right direction.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

I hope everyone likes this! The idea came into my head a few days ago to write about Burt trying to raise Kurt alone, and all the different challenges and learning experiences they both face. I plan to keep this story going for awhile, so let me know what you think!


	2. Babysitter

To be honest, Burt had been worrying about the trip since Monday. He had to drive to Cleveland that Friday night to deliver a part to a customer, but he couldn't take Kurt. It would be seven hours round trip, and with an eight year old that just wasn't an option. He hired their usual babysitter, Lindsay, a high school senior, to watch him for the night and stay with him until he got back early Saturday morning, but he was still worried. Kurt hadn't slept very well at night since Elizabeth had died two months earlier. He had explained how he was leaving to Kurt, and he seemed to not be upset, so that gave him some hope. Still, he had insisted she call him if there were any problems.

It was 10:30, and he was almost halfway home when he got the call.

"Hello?" he answered.

"Mr. Hummel, sorry to bother you, but Kurt's having a hard time sleeping. He went to bed just fine about an hour ago, but he woke up crying and he won't talk to me, so I can't get him to settle down." He was afraid of that.

"Um, hold the phone up to his ear. I'll see what I can do."

"Kurt, hey, it's your dad on the phone. You wanna talk to your dad?"

"Daddy!" Kurt howled. "Dad, come home!" he hated hearing him like that. He still had an hour and a half left of the drive, but he was determined to get to him.

"Kurt, I'm coming home. I'm on my way, okay? I'm gonna be there really soon," he told him. If he hurried, he could be home in an hour, but hopefully he would be asleep again by that time.

"I m-miss you," Kurt sobbed.

"I miss you too, buddy. I'll be there in a little bit. Why are you crying? Did you have a bad dream?" he asked.

"Yeah," he whimpered. "I want you to c-come home." Naturally, it hurt him to hear him crying and knowing he couldn't be there to help.

"I'm coming home, Kurt. It's gonna be okay," he assured him. "Do you want to tell me about your dream?"

"No." he sounded tired. He knew if both he and Lindsay tried, they could get him back to sleep.

"You're tired, kiddo. I can tell. Would it help it Lindsay made you some warm milk?" he coaxed. "I told her how to do it the right way."

"Uh huh," he said. "Like Mom made it?"

"Yep, she'll do it like Mom made it. Why don't you ask her nicely to make you some, and then get back in bed and try to go back to sleep. Can you do that?"

"Yeah." The kid sounded unsure of himself.

"You do that, and when you wake up I'll be home. I love you, Kurt."

"Love you, too. Promise you'll be here?"

"I promise. Can I talk to Lindsay for a second?"

"Yeah. Hang on."

"Thanks, Mr. Hummel," she said.

"No, thank you for watching him. I know it's not easy getting him back to sleep after he's all worked up like that. Would you mind to make him a cup of warm milk? I think that would really help."

"Sure thing. And I'll call you back if there's any more problems." Burt thanked her again and then hung up. He was only an hour away, and more eager to see Kurt than ever.

She didn't have to call him a second time, so he took that was a good sign. When he made it home he entered through the front door quietly. Lindsay was sitting on the couch, and Kurt was lying beside her, his head in her lap.

"He finally fell asleep, huh?" he asked.

"Yeah. I made him his milk and let him sit in here to drink it, and next thing I know he's asleep on my lap. I didn't want to carry him to his bed and risk waking him up, but he's only been sleeping here about half an hour," she explained.

"That's great. Thanks for looking after him, I appreciate it."

"It's not a problem. He's so well behaved, I don't mind." Burt pulled out a fifty-dollar bill from his wallet and handed it to her. She thanked him, and then he went to pick Kurt up so she could leave. Once she was gone, he carried him up the stairs to his room and laid him in his bed. He opened his eyes and looked up at him.

"Dad," he mumbled sleepily. "You're home." He covered him up and kissed his forehead.

"Yep. I told you I would be here when you woke up. Did you have fun with Lindsay this evening?" he asked. Kurt nodded sleepily and Burt smiled at him. "Good. Close your eyes and go back to sleep. It's late. I love you."

"Love you," he murmured. Burt stood there for a minute, watching him sleeping peacefully. The phone call from Lindsay and hearing him cry had sent him into a panic, but it was over, he was home, and Kurt was okay. And that was all that mattered.

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**Author's Notes:**

Hope you all are liking this series so far! I love Burt and Kurt to death. I will post another chapter tomorrow!


	3. Friday Night Dinner

Friday night dinners were a classic tradition in the Hummel house. Elizabeth had started the tradition soon after Burt married her, and continued on into Kurt's childhood. Once she was gone, they quickly turned into just grabbing fast food and letting Kurt stay up an hour later.

That week in particular, he wanted to do something special. He could tell Kurt was getting tired of McDonald's and Wendy's for dinner, so he decided to attempt to cook.

But that was the thing. Burt Hummel couldn't cook to save his life. He settled for grilled chicken and potatoes. It was moderately easy, but different from the usual. He printed off a recipe and left work early to go shopping for everything.

That night when they got home, Kurt sat at the kitchen table and watched him cook. He was being extremely quiet, so Burt knew he was just having one of those days. He was reading the directions thoroughly, and after turning the mixer on too high and flinging mashed potatoes everywhere, he at least came out with some decent looking chicken.

"You hungry, bud?" he asked. Kurt nodded, looking down at the table. "Good. I think you're gonna like this." He cut into the chicken, and stared down at it. It was _completely_ raw. He mentally slapped himself in the face. Kurt was finally looking forward to something, and it was gone again.

He prepared himself for Kurt to cry, but it was his laughter that broke the silence. He looked at his son and couldn't help but laugh, too.

"You can't cook," he teased.

"Thanks for reminding me," he teased back. "Go get your coat and shoes." Kurt looked puzzled.

"Why?"

"We're going out to eat. Go on, you get to pick where we go." Kurt smiled and ran off to get his things. Burt dumped the chicken in the trash and put his coat on.

"Dad, can we go to Breadstix?" he asked eagerly.

"Sure, buddy. Is that where you wanna go?" Kurt nodded and skipped out to the truck. Money had been a little bit tight ever since his wife died, so going out to a restaurant, especially for a Friday night dinner, was a treat.

They were both still laughing at the chicken disaster, but Burt thought he made up for it pretty well by taking him for ice cream afterwards. Kurt was talkative and cheery and having a great time.

By the time they got home, Kurt had completely worn himself out and was quickly falling asleep. Burt considered the night as a success as he carried him up to his room.

"Put your pajamas on," he told him. "I'll tuck you in." Kurt climbed into his bed and sighed. "Did you have fun tonight, going out for dinner and ice cream?"

"Yeah," he murmured. "Dad?"

"What, buddy?"

"Don't try to cook again," he said seriously. Burt laughed and kissed his forehead.

"I won't," he promised. "I love you, kiddo. Go to sleep and you can help me out at the garage tomorrow if you want."

"Love you, too." Kurt turned onto his side, and Burt left him alone to go to sleep. It was great to see him finally coming back out of his shell, even if it was only for a night.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

I just love them both so much. Burt's doing the best he can to play both the mother and the father role now, and sometimes you can't help but laugh.


	4. Sick

Burt hurried into his office to answer his ringing cell phone.

"Hello?" he said.

"Mr. Hummel, this is Nurse Lisa, from Kurt's elementary school." He frowned. Something was wrong.

"Is he okay?" he asked. "Do I need to come get him?"

"His teacher send him down, and he's got a fever and saying his throat hurts. He's laying down right now, but he really wanted me to call you," she explained.

"I'll come take him home. Thanks for letting me know." He hung up and grabbed his jacket and keys. He was admittedly a little concerned. Kurt hadn't been sick since Elizabeth was alive. He didn't know how to take care of him if he was sick. He parked at the school and went inside. The receptionist directed him to the nurses office, and he walked inside slowly. Kurt was sitting up in a chair next to a little girl with a scraped knee.

"Dad," he said, standing up and going over to him.

"Hey, buddy. How you feeling?" he asked.

"I'm okay," he said quietly.

"Mr. Hummel, if you'll just sign him out here, then you can take him home," the nurse told him. Burt signed the paper and picked up his backpack.

"Come on, kiddo." Kurt didn't say anything as he took him out to the truck. Kurt climbed in the passenger seat all by himself and buckled his seatbelt. "When did you start to feel bad?"

"During reading," he said.

"Well we'll go home and you can rest on the couch and watch TV." Kurt nodded and was silent the rest of the ride.

When they got home, Kurt went inside and laid down on the couch. Burt got him a pillow and blanket and pulled his shoes off.

"You want pajamas?" he asked. Kurt nodded meekly. He got him a change of clothes and left him to change. He wasn't exactly sure what to do for him to help him feel better, but he managed to grab some cough drops, a few DVDs from the shelf, and a mug of some of the hot tea he liked to drink. He got him settled with a movie on and decided to stay with him so he wouldn't get lonely. Cinderella was on, but Kurt couldn't stay awake.

He left him alone to take his nap, but an hour later he heard him coughing. He went in to check on him, but he didn't seem to be doing any better.

"Do you want some lunch, Kurt? Some soup or something?" he asked. He shook his head, not looking at him. Something was bothering him, and it wasn't just his throat. He sat down by him and put his arm around him. "What's the matter?"

"I want Mommy," he mumbled. "Mommy knew what to do." It was no secret Burt wasn't doing a very good job of making him feel better, but the last thing he wanted was for him to get upset. He was trying his best for him, but it still wasn't good enough. He rubbed his back, but he wasn't sure how else to help.

"I know, buddy. I know you miss her, I do too. If you want, we can watch Sound of Music, and I'll make you some chicken noodle soup from her recipe. Would that be good?" Kurt, even though he was eight years old, stuck his thumb in his mouth and nodded. He started the movie for him and went into the kitchen. He found her recipe book, but he had never made anything out of it.

By the time he was done, he was proud of himself. The last time he tried cooking he undercooked the chicken he was making for dinner and it was just bad, but he thought his soup cooking skills were improving. He took it into the living room for Kurt.

"Here you go, kiddo. Tell me if you like it." Kurt took a bite and grinned a little bit.

"It's how mom made it," he said.

"Yeah, I told you I would do it like that. Do you want anything else?" he shook his head, so he sat down to watch the movie with him.

After an hour of listening to half a dozen annoying children sing, he felt something on his shoulder. Kurt had curled up next to him, his eyes closed. He smiled and wrapped his arm around him and kissed the top of his little boy's head. He wasn't anything like his wife in terms of taking care of him, but they were both still learning.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

I hope everyone is liking this series! I love writing it; I just love Burt and Kurt and their incredibly unique relationship. I will hopefully get another chapter up tomorrow if I have time!


	5. Lost

Kurt loved helping his daddy shop, even if they were just going to buy groceries. He was too big to ride in the cart, but he didn't mind. He held the list and walked up and down the aisles, helping him find everything.

"Kurt, come on!" he called. Kurt turned to follow him, but he wasn't there anymore.

"Dad?" he hurried down the aisle to try to find him, but he had disappeared. He turned down the next aisle, trying to calm himself down. "Daddy?" he must have checked half the store, but he couldn't find him. He got scared; worried he had lost him just like he lost his mom. He didn't know what would happen to him. He sat down on an empty shelf close to the ground and began to cry. He had looked everywhere, but he was gone. He was all alone, and didn't have anywhere to go.

"Little boy?" he heard. He held his head up and saw an older lady looking at him. "What'd the matter? Can you not find your mommy?"

"My d-daddy," he corrected. "I don't know where he is and I'm a-alone."

"Come with me, we'll find him," she said.

"I'm not supposed to talk to strangers," he explained, backing away.

"It's okay, we're just going to the front of the store. I want to get you back with your daddy." Kurt reluctantly stood up and walked with her up to the front. He sat in a chair while the lady talked to someone, and a few minutes later his dad showed up there.

"Dad!" he cried, running to him. His dad picked him up and kissed him.

"Kurt," he sighed in relief. "I'm so glad you're okay. I looked all over for you, kiddo. I was worried sick."

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "I got scared and tried to find you."

"It's okay, I'm just glad you're alright. Let's go home." His dad set him down and talked with the lady for a minute, and then they left. Kurt could still feel his heart beating really fast from being scared. His dad was all he had, and he couldn't afford to lose him. He was old enough to realize that. Kurt made the decision then that he couldn't let anything happen to him, no matter what. Without his dad, he'd really be in trouble. He was going to protect his daddy, just like he did to him.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

That happened to me one time when I was around that age, and it was seriously the scariest thing ever. I just can't help but feel so bad for both of them.


	6. Thunderstorms

Burt woke up to a loud crack of thunder and a howl from Kurt's room. He got up to go calm him down; he had always been afraid of the loud thunder. He tapped his door open and walked over to his bed.

"Kurt? Kurt, it's okay. It's just raining. Are you okay?" he asked. Kurt poked his head out from his pile of blankets.

"I'm fine," he said unconvincingly.

"Can you go back to sleep? You can come sleep in my bed if you want," he offered. Kurt shook his head and laid back down. "Okay. Just come get in my bed if you get scared." Kurt nodded, and he left him alone.

Ten minutes later the storm was getting worse, and he heard Kurt run down the hall and push his door open.

"Dad?" he said.

"Come on, kiddo." Kurt crawled up into the bed with his small army of pillows, blankets, and stuffed animals. "Try to go to sleep. The storm should pass pretty soon.

The storm didn't pass. The rain got heavier, the thunder got louder, and Kurt became more and more worked up. He didn't cry, which surprised him, but Burt knew it was unlikely that either of them would get any more sleep.

At four in the morning, an hour after Kurt came to sleep with him, he heard tornado sirens. It was uncommon for Ohio to have tornados, but there was always the exception. He grabbed Kurt and took him down to the basement with him while he turned on the radio. Kurt wouldn't let go of him, and was shaking like crazy.

"Kurt, it's okay buddy. We're gonna be okay, don't be scared. This happens all the time."

"I want my blanket," he pleaded.

"I'll go get it, but you have to stay right here. Don't come upstairs, got it?" Kurt nodded, eyes wide. He went up and grabbed his blanket and stuffed bear. Kurt had obeyed and hadn't moved a muscle. He wrapped his blanket around him and handed him his bear.

"Thank you," he peeped.

"You're welcome. Just sit tight now, it's okay." Kurt clung to him as he tried to listen to the weather on the radio. There was a tornado near Lima, and the reporter was telling everyone to go into a bathroom or basement. Burt rubbed his back to try to keep him calmed down, but he was still shaking like a leaf. "Kurt, we're gonna be okay. It's not in Lima."

"I wanna get back in bed."

"We will soon," he promised him. He pulled him onto his lap on the small couch and let him lay his head on his shoulder. Kurt managed to calm down a little, so Burt could focus better on what was going on. After fifteen minutes, they said it was all clear and safe to go back to sleep. He turned the radio off and carried Kurt back upstairs.

"Is it gone?" he asked.

"Yup. We're going back to bed now." He tucked him in and got in bed himself. Kurt scooted over right next to him and laid his head on his arm. It was still raining pretty hard, but he could tell Kurt was too tired to be scared anymore. He was thankful it didn't get any worse, or else Kurt probably would've gone into a full blown panic attack. The storm was passing, and the only thing that mattered was that Kurt was calm and safe.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

There were a bunch of tornados where I grew up and I basically freaked out everytime, so yeah.

Also, I need a few ideas for this series, so please leave prompts if you want me to write something specific for you!


	7. Bike Ride

If there was one thing Burt was determined to do, it was to teach his son how to ride a bike. He bought him a dark green bike with blue and pink tassels, and Kurt fell in love, begging him to teach him to ride it. So, on the next Saturday he took him outside to help him. He told him what to do and then helped him get started for the first few yards, and then let him go. He was doing pretty good for the first time, but after thirty feet or so he fell to the side. He jogged over to him and bent down to make sure he wasn't hurt.

"You okay, kiddo?" he said. Kurt nodded, looking down at the ground. "Come on, you did really good. Let's keep going, you're gonna get the hang of it." He helped his small son up to his feet and got him back on his bike. "Just keep pedaling and work on staying straight." Kurt nodded, and he let him go again.

After half an hour of countless tries and countless falls, Kurt managed to go down the whole street without falling.

"Dad, I did it!" he called to him when he reached the end. Burt ran to him and hugged him tightly.

"See, I knew you could. You're getting pretty good. You want to go down to ride around the park and back?" Kurt nodded eagerly and took off on his own. Burt jogged after him, keeping a close eye on him in case he fell again. He was doing just fine, until he accidentally let go of the handles and hit the curb. He crashed down to the side again and he heard him start to cry. He ran to him and started looking him over. "Are you hurt? Where did you fall?" Kurt pointed to his arm, and Burt gingerly took hold of it and looked it over. Nothing looked bent or broken, but his elbow was bleeding pretty badly. "Come on. You did really good today, let's go home and get it cleaned up. It's just a scrape." He held his hand and wheeled his bike back to their house. He sat him on the kitchen counter and cleaned off his arm, and put a princess Band-Aid on it just for him. "You like riding your bike?"

"Yeah," he said quietly. "Until I fell. Can we do it again tomorrow? I don't wanna do it anymore today."

"Yeah, we'll try again tomorrow. I'm proud of you." Kurt leaned forward and hugged him. Burt put his arms around him and held him tight. He wasn't going to let him give up, whether it was with his bike or anything else.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

I was watching Grilled Cheesus, and I saw Kurt's flashbacks when he was singing I Wanna Hold Your Hand, and then this happened. Plus also I have a bad history with bikes myself. Hope you liked it! If you leave prompts I will be glad to write them!


	8. School Play

_You're here for Kurt,_ Burt reminded himself as he took a seat in the auditorium. It was the annual elementary school Thanksgiving play, and Kurt was one of the main characters. Burt wasn't looking forward to watching an elementary school production, but he promised him he was going to be there. He watched all the other parents and grandparents and siblings file in and take seats, and he thought back to the year before.

Last year, he wasn't alone. He sat by his wife, and watched his little boy light up the stage. Elizabeth had fallen all over him, and even bought him flowers. Burt was proud of him, but he never imagined the next year he'd be watching him all alone. He tried to focus on just being there to support Kurt.

The lights dimmed and the show began. It was a simple play with a few little songs, one of which Kurt had a solo in. Burt sat on the edge of his seat and listened to his amazing little singing voice. He had no doubt gotten that from Elizabeth. Burt couldn't sing to save his life. Hearing him made him miss her even more, but he went back to watching him throughout the show.

When it was over, he found Kurt backstage and hugged his neck.

"Did you see me, Dad?" he asked eagerly.

"Mm hmm. Heard you singing. You've got quite a voice," he said. Kurt smiled and left to go change out of his costume.

As Burt drove home, it began to rain. Kurt was completely exhausted and falling asleep, despite the extra noise. Burt was so proud of him. It had only been four months, but Kurt was slowly getting back to his normal perky self.

When they got home, Burt carried him inside and covered him in his coat so he wouldn't get wet. He laid him in bed and helped him wake up enough so he could put pajamas on.

"Did I do good tonight?" he asked, half asleep.

"You did great. I loved it." He laid him down and tucked him in bed. "Go to sleep, buddy." Kurt closed his eyes and Burt bent over and kissed his cheek. The kid was a carbon copy of his mother, and he couldn't help but love him to death.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

I hope you liked this chapter! I really enjoyed writing it. Burt is such a good parent.


	9. Nightmare

Kurt's eyes shot open, and he looked around desperately in the dark. He had had another nightmare.

"Mommy?" he called out. No one came. He remembered she couldn't come anymore. "Daddy!" he squeezed his eyes shut and waited for him, trying to forget his bad dream. He wanted his mom there. She was perfect at calming him down from a nightmare. "I want Mommy," he mumbled to himself. He heard his bedroom door open, and his dad came in and turned on his lamp.

"Hey, what's the matter?" he said. "Bad dream?" Kurt nodded and rubbed his eyes.

"I want Mommy," he pouted. His dad sat him up and put his arm around him.

"I know, buddy. She always knew what to do." Kurt grabbed his blanket and pulled it around himself. "You wanna sleep in my bed for the rest of the night, or try to go back to sleep?"

"I'm okay," he said quietly. "I can go back to sleep."

"Okay, lay down." Kurt laid back on his pillow, and his dad tucked him in. "You can come get in bed with me if you change your mind, okay?" Kurt nodded, and his dad kissed his cheek and left.

He tried to go back to sleep, he really did, but he just couldn't. He wasn't upset from his bad dream anymore, but he wanted his mommy there. Whenever he woke up in the middle of the night she would stay with him and rub his back until he fell asleep again. He didn't want to be alone, so he ventured down the hall to his dad's room and crawled in bed next to him. His dad was asleep, but at least he wasn't alone anymore. He covered up and closed his eyes, wishing it were morning already.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

So I know this is really short but I had a hard time coming up with something to write about. What do you think, should I write more of Kurt's point of view? Or Burt? Also, if you give leave prompts I will get to them right away because I need ideas for this story like yesterday.


	10. First Date

Burt stared in his closet, looking for just the right thing to wear. He knew he should go to Kurt for fashion advice, but he wasn't ready to tell him where he was going. All he knew was that Lindsay was coming over to watch him for a couple of hours while he went out. That was it. No questions asked.

Four days earlier, Jake from the garage was telling him about his sister's friend who got divorced the year before. She was only two years younger than Burt, so he decided to call her. She sounded nice, but he still wasn't so sure about the whole blind date thing. But, he was lonely, and Kurt was desperate to have a mom again, so Burt decided to just see where things went with it.

He looked at his watch and realized he had to get going. Most of the closet was still dominated by Elizabeth's extensive wardrobe. He didn't have the heart to get rid of all of her clothes. He pushed a row of her dresses aside and picked out a dark blue button down shirt. He would skip the flannel for once to make a good first impression. He kept his jeans on but put on nicer shoes instead of his Nikes. He took off his baseball cap and grabbed his wallet before going downstairs. Kurt was at the kitchen table, finishing his homework.

"Hey, kiddo. You gonna be good for Lindsay tonight?" he asked.

"Uh huh. Where are you going?" Burt paused, unsure of how to tell him.

"I'm gonna go have dinner with a friend. I'm only gonna be gone a couple of hours," he said.

"Which friend?" Kurt asked. He wasn't stupid. Elizabeth had been dead six months. He had to be wondering.

"You know Jake, from the garage?" Kurt nodded. "His sister's friend is meeting me to have dinner. We're gonna go to Breadstix."

"Is it a date?" Kurt asked, looking up at him. He sighed and sat in the chair next to him.

"We're just gonna talk, buddy. We're getting to know each other. You have to get to know someone before you decide if you wanna be their friend," he told him. "I should be back in time to put you to bed." The doorbell rang, and Burt got up to go let Lindsay in. He paid her, left her extra money for dinner, and left after hugging his son goodbye. He drove straight to Breadstix and waited for her at the front. Jake had shown him a picture of her so he would be able to recognize her. Her name was Stacey, and she had short black hair and green eyes and was tall and thin. He was beginning to get cold feet, but just then she came through the door.

"Burt?" she asked. He smiled.

"You must be Stacey." They exchanged an awkward hug and sat down in a booth.

_This is going well_, he thought to himself as they ate their dinner. Stacey was a nurse at Lima Memorial Hospital, and got divorced the year before. She was kind and funny, but not over the top.

"Jake mentioned you have a son?" she asked. Burt smiled. He'd been thinking about him the entire time.

"Yeah, his name's Kurt. He's eight," he said. "Do you like kids?"

"Oh, yes. I used to babysit all the time as a teenager; I still do occasionally. What's he like?" Burt sipped his Pepsi and leaned back in his seat. He really didn't know how to describe Kurt to someone who had never met him.

"He's not like most of the kids his age," he figured. _Yeah. Boys his age like cars and trucks and dirt. That's not Kurt. _"He likes to sing and dance, and he's timid at first, but then he'll talk your ear off when he warms up to you."

"He sounds sweet. I'd love to meet him sometime." _Wait, what?_ There was no way Kurt would be able to handle meeting Stacey. Sure, she was nice and seemed like she would like him, but Kurt could barely handle of the idea of him going out on a date, much less her coming to meet him. He just wasn't ready for that. He was afraid for a second that he was overreacting, but Kurt was his baby, all he had left, and he couldn't let just anyone come in and be a big part of his life. He was craving for a mom again, but he wasn't ready. Burt was beginning to think he wasn't ready, either. Of course no one would ever replace Elizabeth, but even then it was too soon to even think about dating. He liked Stacey a lot, but they couldn't be in a relationship.

After dinner they went and got ice cream and ended on a good note. He explained to her gently that he just wasn't ready to date yet. Kurt wasn't ready for him to be in a relationship. She said she completely understood and hoped they could just be friends.

As he drove home, he knew he made the right decision. He would have plenty of time to date in the future; he just had to wait until the time was right.

It was 9:30 on a Friday, so Kurt was still awake when he got home. Lindsay was reading to him on the couch.

"Hey, Mr. Hummel," she said, putting the book down.

"Hey, guys. Was he good for you?" he asked.

"Yup. We had a tea party. I was just about to put him in bed after this chapter." Burt smiled and gave Kurt a hug.

"Did you have a good time, kiddo?" he asked. Kurt nodded his head happily. "Good." Lindsay got her things and left, and Burt carried him up the stairs and tucked him in bed.

"How was your date?" Kurt asked him.

"Good. She's really nice, but she's not going to be my girlfriend," he told him. Kurt looked relieved. "She's just my friend. I don't need a girlfriend. I have all I need." Kurt smiled. "Go to bed. I'll see you in the morning." Kurt yawned and nodded. Burt was glad he decided to hold off on entering a relationship. He had to do the best thing for Kurt before he worried about himself. They were going to be just fine by themselves.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

Thank you so much to everyone who left reviews with ideas for this story! I'm definitely going to be busy writing over the next few days, which is a good thing! I hope you like this chapter, I think it's kind of that moment when burt realizes he has to put Kurt's needs before his, because even though he is lonely and starting to date again, Kurt isn't ready for that, so he has to sacrifice that for him.

So yeah, those are my thoughts on that.


	11. I Wanna Hold Your Hand

Kurt faked a smile as yet another relative hugged him for the hundredth time. He didn't want to be there. He didn't want strange people hugging him. He wanted to go home, he had cried a lot that day and he was tired. His dad had dressed him in a suit and tie and nice shoes for the funeral. Kurt didn't want to go. He wasn't getting his mommy back, so what was the point? He walked up to his dad and tugged on his shirt.

"Can we go home now?" he asked. His dad picked him up and held him.

"Not yet, buddy," he told him quietly. "I want to go home too, but not right now. We're going to the cemetery." Kurt didn't want to think about it anymore. He laid his head on his shoulder and wrapped his arms around his neck. That way people couldn't keep coming up to him and bothering him.

His dad carried him out to the car and buckled him in the front seat. Normally he had to sit in the back, but neither of them said anything about it. Kurt stared out the window blankly, wanting the day to be over. The car ride was completely silent; neither of them said a word. Kurt didn't have anything else to say. He wasn't going to get to see his mommy ever again. She wouldn't sing to him or tuck him into bed or let him lick the spoon when they made cupcakes together. It was just him and his dad, and that was it.

He got out of the car on his own at the cemetery and walked next to his dad. There were already a few people there. He stuck close to his dad to avoid having to talk to them.

His eyes blurred with tears for the thousandth time that day as he watched them lower her casket into the ground. That was it. He wouldn't see her ever again. He would've given anything to hug her one last time. He didn't think that was so much to ask for. He wiped his face with the back of his sleeve and leaned against his dad. He just wanted to hear him say something; something to let him know that they were gonna be okay, because Kurt didn't believe it right then. They wouldn't be okay. How would he make it without a mommy? He cried harder, and his dad grabbed ahold of his hand. He rested his head on his arm and felt his dad squeeze his hand. _At least I have my daddy_. He was certain his daddy loved him, and he would take care of him.

His dad held him as he talked to people for what seemed like forever. He just wanted to get out of there, but he didn't say anything. Finally he carried him back to the car and drove home. It was only the afternoon, but Kurt wanted to go to bed.

For dinner, they ate some of the casserole that someone had brought them. A lot of people had been bringing them foo, but it tasted gross compared to his mommy's cooking. Kurt ate at the table with his dad in silence, and then went upstairs to take a shower. He put on his pajamas and dried his hair.

"Ready for bed?" his dad asked him. Kurt nodded and climbed in bed next to his dad. It was only a little after eight o'clock, but it was dark and he just wanted to sleep. He scooted up next to his dad, and he wrapped his arm around him. Kurt felt safe, and he snuggled deep under the covers. He felt his dad kiss the side of his head. "I love you."

"Love you, Daddy." He gripped his dad's shirt in his fist and closed his eyes to sleep. At least they still had each other.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

So I jumped back in time a little bit, but I couldn't resist. Someone prompted I write the service right after Elizabeth's death, so I was listening to I Wanna Hold Your Hand while I wrote this and it was so depressing.

Also I've never been to a funeral, believe it or not, so bear with me if I don't know how it goes.


	12. Appendicitis

Burt tucked Kurt into bed snugly and flicked his lamp off.

"Goodnight, buddy."

"'Night," Kurt replied. He left him alone, shutting his door quietly behind him. Kurt was just getting back into the swing of sleeping in his own bed again at night. He went downstairs to watch TV until he went to bed later.

Half an hour later, he heard Kurt come out of his room, but he didn't come down the stairs. He figured he was just going to the bathroom, so he returned to his show. After several minutes, he went up to his room to make sure he was going back to sleep. He wasn't in his bed, but he saw light seeping out from under the closed bathroom door. He tapped on the door with his knuckle.

"Kurt?" he heard coughing, and then his little voice.

"You can come in." he twisted the doorknob and stepped inside the little bathroom. He was huddled on the floor, leaning his head over the toilet bowl. He looked paper white and was gently shivering.

"What happened? Did you get sick?" he asked, surprised to see him like that. He nodded, and then promptly threw up into the toilet. He was caught off guard, unsure of how to help him. He finally just knelt down next to him and rubbed his back. Once he stopped he leaned back and started coughing again. "It's okay," he told him. "Does your stomach hurt?" Kurt nodded firmly. "Why didn't you tell me, kiddo?"

"It wasn't that bad. It just started getting bad after dinner," he explained. He sat up quickly, like he was going to be sick again, but nothing came out. He shivered and moaned weakly.

"How long has it hurt?" Kurt had seemed fine earlier, but he didn't eat much dinner.

"Hurt when I woke up this morning. It wasn't very bad, but at recess I didn't want to play, so I just sat down." Burt was beginning to get worried. He'd never had to take care of him all by himself when he was sick before, and apparently he'd felt bad for awhile. He checked his forehead for a fever, and was surprised at how warm he was.

"Are you hot or cold?" he asked.

"'m cold," he mumbled. "I want my blanket."

"Okay, I'll get it for you. Uh, rinse your mouth out, and I'll get you some medicine to help you feel better. Okay?" Kurt nodded and stood up. Burt went down to the kitchen to see if he could find him any medicine. He wasn't sure what to use, so he just grabbed a bottle of Tylenol, and a bottle of water. "Kurt?"

"I'm in here," he said quietly. He turned towards his voice and saw him getting back into bed. After fumbling to find the lamp switch, he turned it on and helped him sit up.

"Here you go," he offered him the Tylenol pills and the water. He swallowed the medicine and then lay down on his pillow. "Your stomach will feel better once you get some rest. Come get me if you think you're gonna throw up again."

"I will," he murmured. "I'm tired."

"Okay, go to sleep, bud. I'll be downstairs." Kurt nodded and closed his eyes. Burt left him alone for the second time and went down to the living room. He was trying to not worry about him; kids got sick all the time, so it was probably nothing, but he still was unsure of how to help him.

Kurt was asleep when he checked on him before going to bed, so he took that as a good sign. However, right as he was about to go to sleep, his door creaked open and he heard Kurt come in.

"Dad?" he called quietly. Burt sat up and turned his lamp on. Kurt stood at the foot of his bed, shaking like a leaf.

"What's the matter?" he asked him. "Come here." Kurt shuffled over to him and crawled up onto the bed.

"I threw up," he quietly confessed. "I couldn't go to the bathroom in time. My stomach hurt and I threw up before I could get out of bed." He looked like he was about to cry.

"Don't worry about it, Kurt. It's okay, I'm not mad. I'll get you your water and you can sleep in here for the rest of the night." Kurt scooted over to the other side of the bed and curled up, and Burt went into his room. He brought his drink back to him and then put his sheets in the washer. His baby blanket was okay, so he kept it to give to him. He didn't know what to do. He couldn't just give him more medicine, it hadn't been long enough, but he needed to do something or else he'd keep throwing up all night. When he got back upstairs to the bedroom, Kurt was buried under a mountain of blankets. "You cold, kiddo?" Kurt nodded, his teeth chattering.

"My stomach still hurts," he complained.

"Is it cramping? Do you feel like you're going to be sick again? Tell me what it feels like," he said.

"It's on the side," he began, "it hurts bad. I don't wanna move."

"You don't have to move. Lie still and see if you can relax. Tell me if it starts to feel worse." He walked around to his side of the bed and turned off the lamp. Kurt scooted back to be close to him, and Burt put his arm around him. He told himself that Kurt would be fine, that it was just the stomach flu, but he couldn't help but wonder if something was really wrong with him. Kurt shifted around uncomfortably several times.

"Dad? I don't think I feel good," he whispered. Burt sat up and looked down at him.

"What's the matter? Are you gonna throw up?"

"No, but it hurts. Make it stop." He felt his forehead, and discovered he felt even hotter than before, if that was even possible. As much as he knew Kurt wouldn't want to, he figured it would be best to get him seen by a doctor and feeling better before he got any worse, so he picked him up and carried him into his room.

"What're you doing?" Kurt asked sleepily.

"We're going to the doctor. I'm gonna put your shoes on." He tied his tennis shoes on him and wrapped him in the blanket as he carried him to the truck.

"I don' wanna go," he pleaded weakly. Burt was already in the driver's seat.

"It's gonna be okay, he'll help you feel better. We'll come home and you can go to sleep and be just fine," he assured him.

He kept a close eye on him as he drove to the emergency room. He expected him to be upset about going to the hospital in the middle of the night, but he just curled up in his seat and closed his eyes. Burt pulled into the hospital parking lot and found a spot close to the entrance. He carried Kurt inside and sat him in one of the chairs.

"I'll be right back," he said quietly. He went to the front desk and got him checked in. The receptionist handed him a think packet of forms, and he looked over them uncertainly. He slowly managed to fill everything out and hand it back in to her. "How you feeling?" he asked him.

"Wanna go home, he mumbled. "I don't like it here." He didn't blame him. The only thing the hospital did was bring back memories.

"I know you don't like it, but we'll be back home soon, and you'll feel better," he reassured him. He rubbed his back and tried to relax him as they waited to see a doctor.

After waiting forever, a nurse took them back to a small room. Burt set him down on the table and gave his blanket back to him.

"What's been going on?" the young nurse asked them both.

"He's thrown up a couple of times tonight, and he's got a fever and said his stomach's hurt since this morning, but he didn't tell me until he threw up," Burt explained. The nurse checked his temperature and blood pressure.

"He's got a high fever, and his blood pressure is a little low. Kurt, on a scale from one to 10, one is the best and ten is the worst, how bad does your tummy hurt?" she asked him.

"Nine," he mumbled shyly. "It hurts. I wanna go home."

"You can go home really soon, but we gotta find out why you're getting sick. Can you point to where exactly it hurts?"

"On the side," he explained, pointing on his right side down by his hip. "Don't touch it." He looked terrified.

"I won't," she assured him. "Can you lay down though so I can at least get a look?" Kurt looked over at him, scared and exhausted.

"Lay down, buddy. She's just gonna take a look at you." Kurt obeyed, reaching out for his hand. Burt wanted to believe that everything was okay, but he was expecting the worst. The nurse lifted his shirt up and felt around his abdomen lightly, and Kurt had no reaction up until she got to where he pointed. He let out a cry and squeezed his hand hard. Burt stood up instinctively, and tried to get him to calm down. It was frustrating. Elizabeth would know exactly what to do to help him relax, but he just couldn't figure out how to help. "Kurt, it's okay," he said. "Hold my hand, you're okay." Kurt whimpered and managed to take a deep breath. "There you go. Just relax. Here, here's your blanket." He tucked it under his arm and sat back down, still holding his hand.

"Mr. Hummel, we're going to take him up to pediatrics to have him seen by a physician. First we'll get a CT scan of his abdomen to try to rule out some of the causes of his pain," the nurse told him. She had him sign something and made Kurt change into a hospital gown. "Kurt, do you want to ride in a wheelchair or have your dad carry you?" Kurt stretched out his arms, and Burt smiled a little as he picked him up. He hadn't seen him that vulnerable in a while. The last couple of weeks he had been distant and standoffish, and him wanting to be carried was the first time he'd seen him so dependent on him. He dropped his head onto his shoulder and held onto the collar of his shirt. The nurse led them up an elevator, down a corridor, and into a cool, open room with a table and a big machine with a tube.

"Dad, I don't wanna," he panicked. "No, don't make me."

"Hey, it's okay. Listen to me. It's not gonna hurt. You just gotta lay still for a few minutes while they take some pictures of what's going on in your stomach. You're gonna be okay." He laid Kurt down on the table and got him situated. The nurse led him to the waiting room where he sat down, anxious to see him again. He didn't want him to get worked up again and him not be there with him to help.

After twenty minutes, the nurse came and got him. Kurt was already settled in a new room. He looked so tiny, lying on the twin sized bed. He pulled up a chair next to him and looked down at him.

"How'd you do?" he asked him.

"The machine was loud. My tummy hurts," he pouted.

"I bet they'll give you some medicine. We can probably go home in a little bit." Kurt shivered under the thin sheet, so he pulled it up to his chin. He ran his fingers through his soft silky hair and felt so helpless as he watched him struggle to get comfortable.

Fifteen minutes later the nurse returned with a woman in a white coat with a stethoscope around her neck.

"Mr. Hummel, we took a look at your son's CT images, and he has a case of acute appendicitis. We're going to need to get him into surgery here very shortly," the doctor explained. Burt couldn't think. _Surgery?_ That alone was a scary thought, but his eight year old having _emergency_ surgery was even worse. He knew what appendicitis was, he just never imagined that was what was wrong with him.

"Daddy?" Kurt peeped. He looked down at him and kissed his forehead.

"It's okay, Kurt," he whispered. "You're gonna be okay, I promise." He sat up straight again and looked at the doctor. "How soon?"

"We can take him into the OR in about an hour and a half. How much has he had to eat and drink in the last 24 hours?" she asked. Burt tried to think.

"I had cereal for breakfast, and a sandwich and applesauce for lunch, but then my tummy started to hurt bad so for dinner I just had a few chicken nuggets," Kurt spoke up. "But I threw up a lot."

"Kurt, we're going to give you some medicine to help your tummy feel a little better. Do you have any questions about your surgery?" she asked him nicely. He shook his head and clung onto Burt's arm. "Alright then. We'll get you the paperwork to sign and start his IV." Burt nodded and looked at Kurt again as they left.

"I don't want to. I don't want a surgery, Daddy," he begged.

"No no no, don't get upset," he told him. "You're gonna be okay, everything's gonna be just fine." He was having trouble believing in his own words. "The doctor's are gonna help you feel better. And then we can go home." Kurt looked like he would cry. "I'm gonna stay here with you the whole time." He squeezed his hand reassuringly.

"When can we go home?" he asked longingly.

"I don't know, buddy. Hopefully just a couple hours after it's over," he encouraged him. "I'll stay with you until we get to go home."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

The nurse returned with several papers for him to sign, and he scribbled his name hastily. She went to start an IV on Kurt, and he began to get scared.

"Kurt, take a breath, don't worry. I got you, just hold onto me. It'll just be a little pinch, and then it's over." Kurt clung to him tightly and dug his fingers into his arm. It hurt, but he only cared about Kurt. She cleaned off his arm and pierced the needle on the inside of his elbow. Kurt began to cry and squeezed his hand even tighter. Once she finished and taped the tube down he slowly relaxed. "It's okay, it's over, Kurt."

"That's going to help your stomach feel a little better until we're able to take your appendix out," the nurse explained. "Try to get some rest, and you'll be feeling better in no time." She left them alone once again, and Kurt really relaxed then. The medicine they gave him seemed to make him tired, so hopefully he would get in a little sleep.

Burt was still struggling to help him. He didn't know what he liked to help him feel better, but he hated seeing him so distressed. Thankfully he was dozing off to sleep, so he would get some relief from the constant pain. He knew the situation would be ten times better for him if he only had his mom there, but Burt was doing the best he could to compensate.

After napping on and off for about an hour, the doctor and nurse came to take him to surgery. Kurt was just waking up, but he was already getting worried again.

"Dad, I can't do it," he whimpered. "Take me home."

"Hey, don't talk like that," he said to him. "You're just going to go to sleep, and when you wake up you'll be feeling better. Then we can go home. It's gonna be okay. I won't let anything happen, I promise. I have to go now, but I'll be right here when you wake up. I love you, Kurt."

"Love you," he replied, looking down. Burt kissed his hot little cheek and held his hand as they took him down the hall. Once they got to the operating room doors, he had to let go. He watched them take him away and turned to go sit in the waiting room.

He couldn't help but worry about him the whole time. His little boy, his baby Kurt, was being cut open, and he couldn't be in there with him. He realized he was still hanging onto his blanket and smiled a little. Kurt was so attached to that thing he was afraid he would still be sleeping with it in college. It felt like an eternity waiting for an update.

After two and a half hours, the doctor came over to him in the waiting room.

"Mr. Hummel, we just took Kurt out of surgery. He did great, and he's resting right now in recovery. Would you like to see him?" she asked. He got up and walked with her down the hallway. Kurt was in a little room with just the bed and a chair in it. He was lying on his back, with a tube in his nose and some more IVs in his arm. Burt sat down by him and took his tiny limp hand in his. It meant everything to him to know he was okay. "We'll keep him here until he's awake and alert, and then move him to a bigger permanent room." Burt thanked her for everything and stroked his hair, watching for any signs of change.

Twenty minutes later, he began to slowly wake up. He shifted in the bed and then grimaced in pain, squeezing his hand as well.

"Open your eyes, bud. Can you hear me?" he asked. Kurt slowly blinked several times and looked over at him.

"Dad," he murmured, barely awake and still groggy. "I don' want surgery."

"You already had surgery," he told him gently. "They fixed what was wrong with your tummy. How does it feel?"

"Feels funny. It just hurts a little bit," he said, yawning. Burt tucked his blanket around him and kissed the side of his head.

"I told you you're gonna be okay. You're gonna be feeling a lot better here real soon," he promised. "When we get home I'll watch Sound of Music with you. Would you like that?" Kurt grinned a little and nodded.

"I'm tired. Can I go to sleep?" he asked.

"Yeah, get some rest. I'll be right here." Kurt didn't need to be told twice. He was out in just a few minutes.

Burt watched over him while he slept, determined to help him as much as he could. Even though Kurt couldn't have his mom there with him, he was convinced he was doing the best he could for him.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

Sorry for not updating this yesterday! I started writing this a few days ago, but got super busy and didn't finish until about five minutes ago, so I hope you enjoy it! I'm going to work this weekend on filling prompts and getting things ready to post so I don't have to scramble at the last minute to get in a daily update.

I know I have a oneshot posted of Kurt getting appendicitis, but someone prompted I write it when he got it when he was little, and I really enjoyed writing Burt's point of view for it.

Also, thank you for all your kind words and reviews you all have left me! It really encourages me to keep writing and I love hearing feedback on my writing, so thank you to everyone who has done that!

Also just FYI on the promo for next week's Glee Blaine is asking Burt for permission to marry Kurt. So go watch that and freak out like I did, even though I read the spoiler weeks ago.


	13. Birthday Cake

Kurt was getting frustrated. His dad's birthday was in _two_ days, and he hadn't done anything for him. His mommy always baked him a cake, but he wasn't sure if he could do that all by himself, especially put it in and take it out of the oven. He didn't want him to not get a cake for his birthday, so he decided to do it. He opened his bedroom door and went down the stairs where his dad was watching TV.

"Dad?" he asked.

"Yeah, bud?" he said, turning the TV off and looking over at him.

"Um, can I bake something in the kitchen? I want to make something, but I don't want you to see," he explained. His dad smiled.

"You can bake whatever you want. I don't want you using the oven, though. I'll go upstairs, but you come get me if you need help. Got it?" Kurt nodded obediently and his dad left. He found his mom's old cookbook and the cake recipe she used for his birthday cakes. He found all the ingredients and washed his hands before getting started.

It said to preheat the oven, but he could do that without his dad's help. His mom taught him how to use the mixer, so he followed the rest of the steps easily. He poured the batter into the pan, only spilling a little bit. He cleaned it up and opened up the oven door. _I don't need Dad. I can do it by myself._ He pushed the pan onto the rack, but his hand went too far and bumped it. He let out a cry and his eyes welled up with tears. He grabbed his hand and tried to make it stop hurting, but nothing he did helped. He felt his dad pick him up and set him on the counter. He tugged on his arm and ran his hand under cold water. Kurt wiped his tears from his cheeks, feeling stupid for trying to do it all by himself.

"Kurt, what did I tell you?" his dad asked him. He walked over to the freezer and pulled out a bag of frozen peas.

"Not to use the oven," he mumbled.

"Now look what happened. I don't care if you didn't want me to see what you were making, you can't do that on your own," he told him, pressing the peas to his hand.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, looking down. "I was making you a birthday cake. You weren't gonna have one cause Mommy died." His dad wrapped put his hand on his shoulder.

"I don't need a cake, buddy. I can celebrate my birthday with you, that's all I want." Kurt looked back up at him.

"Can I finish making it?" he asked. "I don't have a present for you."

"I don't need any present, Kurt. But if you really want to, we can finish. I'm gonna help, though," he said. Kurt nodded and hopped down from the counter. "How's your hand feeling?" Kurt looked at the bright red streak across the back of his hand.

"It hurts a little," he confessed. His dad opened the medicine cabinet and made him take medicine.

"That might make you tired," he warned. "We can finish the cake and you can lay down if you feel like it." He nodded and let his dad put the pan in the oven. "Did you use your mom's recipe?" Kurt nodded. "It's gonna turn out great. Thanks for wanting to do this, kiddo. I know it was supposed to be a surprise but I like it just as much." He patted him on the shoulder. And Kurt followed him into the living room, keeping the frozen peas on his burn.

"I think I'm tired," he admitted. He felt funny. His eyes were heavy from crying, but he didn't want to sleep.

"Well lay your head down. Once the cake cools a little I'll let you frost it all on your own if you want," he offered. Kurt nodded eagerly and leaned back on the couch. Frosting the cake was the best part. Even though he didn't have an actual gift for his dad, he knew he was going to be happy with his special birthday cake.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

Here you go!

I have all weekend to write, so if you send prompts I will fill them right away. Unless something comes up I should be good to post every evening without having to miss a day!


	14. Sleepover

Burt looked up and smiled as the door to his office creaked open and his eight-year-old son walked in.

"Hey, buddy," he said. "Have a good day at school?"

"Uh huh," he replied, and then paused for a moment. "Can I go over to someone's house tomorrow night?"

"Who?" he asked. Kurt had a few friends that were girls, but he didn't think they would invite him for a sleepover.

"A girl in my class invited me and some girls to sleep over at her house," he explained. _Guess I was wrong. _"Her name is Mercedes and she lets me jump rope with her at recess." Burt didn't know what to tell him. He wasn't sure if it was a good idea to let him do that. He needed to be playing with boys, not having fashion shows and tea parties with girls at sleepovers. _What would Elizabeth do? _he wondered. After a few minutes of silence, he made up his mind.

"I'll talk to her mom. If she says you can come, then you can go," he told him. Kurt smiled and his face lit up. "Do your homework and we'll get out of here soon."

After finishing up everything he had to do, he drove Kurt home and made him a grilled cheese for dinner. That was all he could make besides cereal and popcorn, but at least it wasn't fast food every night like it used to be. Kurt went up to his room to finish his homework, and soon after that the home phone rang. It was someone named Mrs. Jones telling him that Kurt was invited over the following night to sleepover with her daughter Mercedes. He told her that Kurt would be there and he would drop him off the next evening.

"Kurt, come here!" he called. Kurt thumped down the stairs.

"Yeah?"

"Your friends mom called. You can go to Mercedes' house tomorrow night," he said. Kurt grinned from ear to ear and hugged him.

"Thanks, Dad," he said. Burt was glad he let him go.

"You're welcome, kiddo." Kurt skipped back upstairs, saying he was going to pack his things. At that point Burt didn't really care that he was going over to a girl's house, he was just glad he was spending time with friends at all. He knew he made the right choice; if he had told him no he would've been crushed.

The next day after Kurt got off the bus at the garage, Burt took his break and drove him over to her house.

"You're gonna be good, right kiddo?" he said.

"Uh huh," he agreed, nearly bouncing in his seat from excitement.

"And you're gonna say please and thank you and remember your manners?"

"Yes, Dad."

"Okay, I'm just making sure. You can always call the house if you want me to come get you," he reminded him as he pulled into their driveway.

"I'll be good," Kurt promised, unbuckling his seat belt. Burt handed him his bag and hugged him before he got out.

"I know you will. Have fun," he told him. Kurt slid out of his seat and waved at him as he went inside the house. Burt drove home happy, glad Kurt was going to have a good time. That was just what he needed, to spend time with true friends.

He didn't realize how lonely it was without his son dancing around the house and singing along with his musicals all the time. Burt sat on the couch and watched a football game on TV, wishing he had Kurt back. It was the first time in forever they hadn't been together for their Friday night dinners. At nearly eleven, the home phone rang.

"Hello?" he answered.

"Dad?" a tiny voice said. It was Kurt, and he sounded upset.

"Hey, buddy. What's the matter?" he asked.

"I miss you," he mumbled. "Can you come get me?" Burt was torn. He wanted him to stay and have fun with his friends, but he didn't want him to be upset and missing him, either. The last time he had been apart from him for a night was when he had to go to Cleveland for work, and he left Kurt with the babysitter. Needless to say, it didn't go well.

"Aren't you having fun, kiddo? I don't want to take you home if you're having fun with your friends. And you'll be home tomorrow," he assured him.

"Yeah, but I miss you."

"I miss you, too, Kurt. I'll come take you home if that's what you really want, but I think you're gonna miss out on having fun. Do you think you can make it to the morning?" he asked. Kurt sniffled.

"I guess. Will you take me home in the morning?" he asked.

"Yup. If you're not too tired you can come to the garage with me and help me change some tires. You wanna do that?"

"Yeah. I'll stay here," he told him, sounding better.

"Okay. I'll be there tomorrow to come get you. I love you."

"Love you," Kurt replied, hanging up the phone. Burt smiled to himself as he went upstairs to go to bed. He knew he didn't really want to go home, and by the end of the phone call he knew he was really having fun with his friends, even if they were all girls. He didn't care if Kurt was into dressing up or that stuff, at least he had friends that liked him for who he was.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

I feel like Kurt and Mercedes and Rachel would totally be best friends as little kids and they would invite him over and put makeup on him and dress up together and Kurt wouldn't even mind that his best friends were girls and he would just be one of the girls.


	15. Dad's Helper

When Kurt woke up on Saturday, he jumped up out of bed and put his clothes on. His dad let him go to the garage with him on Saturdays, and he could actually help instead of just sitting in his office and doing homework. He tied his shoes and went down the stairs to have breakfast. Kurt frowned. His daddy was always awake before him. He would either be sitting at the table reading the newspaper, or watching sports on the TV.

"Dad?" he called. No answer. He went back upstairs and pushed open his bedroom door. "Dad?"

"Hey, kiddo," he answered, still in bed. Kurt walked over and climbed up on the opposite side of the bed.

"Are we going to the garage?" he asked eagerly. "I wanna help."

"Not today, bud." His dad coughed and then sat up. "I'm not feeling so great today." Kurt frowned. His dad couldn't get sick. What if something was really wrong with him and he couldn't take care of him anymore?

"Are you gonna be okay?" he asked hesitantly.

"Of course. Everyone gets sick eventually. I'll be fine by tomorrow and we can go to the garage then. Sound good?" Kurt nodded.

"Can I make breakfast?" he offered.

"That's fine. Just don't try anything too complicated. Let me know if you need help, okay?" Kurt smiled and hopped off the bed. He went back down the stairs to the kitchen. He tried to think of what he would want to eat if he were sick. His mom made him oatmeal or toast, and let him drink whatever he wanted. Toast would be the easiest, so he put two pieces of bread in the toaster and poured him a glass of orange juice. Coffee was too complicated, and it smelled weird. He couldn't quite reach the cabinets yet, but he stood on a chair and opened the medicine cabinet with ease. He got the bottle of Tylenol out, just because he didn't know what else to use.

After the toast was finished, he set it on a plate and carried the glass of juice. He was all out of hands, so he had to tuck the medicine bottle under his arm.

"Dad, I made breakfast!" he exclaimed proudly. He kicked the bedroom door open and walked inside. He took the plate and glass from him.

"Thank you, buddy. Looks great. Did you make yourself anything?" he asked.

"Not yet. I'll make cereal. Oh! I forgot, I brought you medicine, too." He handed him the bottle.

"Thanks, Kurt. Go make your cereal and come back up here, we can watch those cartoons you like." Other than going to the garage, Saturday morning cartoons were his favorite. He poured his Lucky Charms and went upstairs again. His dad let him watch SpongeBob, even though he thought it was annoying.

"Are you any better?" Kurt asked once the show was over.

"I'm just tired, kiddo. You know how you like to take a nap when you don't feel good?" Kurt nodded. "I'll be okay, I don't want you to worry about me."

"Do you want me to leave you alone?" he asked.

"Why don't you go watch your cartoons in the living room for a little bit? I'll come in there a little later and make lunch," he told him. Kurt got up and left him alone, shutting the door behind him. He didn't want to watch his cartoons anymore. He went to his room and read on his bed. Taking care of someone sick wasn't any fun. _Mommy would know what to do._ Kurt felt like he just made things worse, even though he was trying to help.

He wanted to do something special for him to help him feel better, so he decided to clean up. He wiped off the kitchen counters and swept the floor. Vacuuming would be too loud, and he was too short to reach the buttons on the washer, so he put the dishes away quietly. He did the best he could, but the kitchen still looked far from perfect. He heard his dad on the stairs and he turned around.

"What're you doing?" he asked.

"I cleaned," he explained. "You don't want to clean when you're sick." He came over and looked over the job he had done. For a second, he was afraid he was mad at him. Instead, he clapped him on the shoulder.

"You did a great job, bud. You didn't have to do that."

"I wanted to," he sighed. "Are you better now? It's boring when we don't do anything on Saturdays."

"I feel better. You've taken pretty good care of me. You made me breakfast in bed and cleaned the kitchen," he reminded him. "You're a pretty good helper." Kurt smiled. He supposed he was better than he thought at taking care of people.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

So after Kurt's mom died, he really had to grow up pretty fast. He's so independent and he did the cooking around the house and took care of his dad, especially after his heart attack, and just did it all.


	16. Baseball

Kurt _hated_ baseball. His dad signed him up to play on an actual team, and he hated every minute of it. He kept telling him how good he was at it, but Kurt knew he was lying, and he didn't have the guts to tell him he wanted to quit.

He had to go to rehearsal every Saturday. The other boys made fun of him because he called it rehearsal, but that's what it was. They rehearsed swinging the bat and throwing the ball to each other. Kurt couldn't catch a baseball if his life depended on it.

When they would play an actual game, Kurt liked to sit in the outfield and pick at the grass. It was a lot better than running around trying to catch a ball.

"I don't wanna be here," he grumbled. "I should've taken dance." He crossed his arms and sighed. The coach blew his whistled and they all sat on the benches to eat lunch. Kurt raised his hand.

"What'cha need, Kurt?" the coach asked. Kurt didn't even know his name.

"When is rehearsal over?" he asked. The other boys started laughing. Kurt ignored them, expecting an answer.

"After we finish lunch we've got one more hour," he told him. A whole _hour_. Plus lunch. Kurt was going to die.

After he ate his lunch they were put in pairs. Kurt couldn't find a partner, so the coach put him with another boy who wasn't paired up yet. He was several inches taller than him, and looked a couple of years older.

"What's your name?" the boy asked.

"Kurt," he answered timidly.

"I'm Finn. How old are you? You're really little."

"I'm eight and a half," he told him proudly.

"Really? Me too! I'll by nine in June." Kurt smiled. Finn talked a lot, but at least he wasn't mean. He handed him his bat and ran off. The coach told them that one person needed to throw the ball, and the other person had to hit it with the bat. Kurt frowned. He hated batting. The thing was big and heavy and he was too clumsy. Plus Finn was really good at throwing the ball. _Pitching?_ That was the word. Finn was good at pitching. The ball moved too fast, and he wasn't able to hit it at all.

Without any warning, one of the balls he threw didn't just fly past him. It hit him right in the jaw, under his ear, and it was hard enough to knock him over. He panicked as he hit the ground and began to cry. His jaw hurt, and it hurt to cry. He heard running and saw Finn and the coach in front of him.

"Hey, are you okay?" Finn asked. "I didn't mean to, I swear. Are you hurt?"

"Kurt, it's okay," the coach said. Kurt pulled away from him. He didn't want to play baseball. He wanted to go home. "Can you talk to me?"

"I wanna go h-home," he choked out. Finn offered his hand to help him up, and both he and the coach walked him to the bench.

"I'll call your dad to come get you and get you some ice. Finn, sit with him for a minute," he ordered as he walked off.

"Are you gonna be okay?" Finn asked. "I really didn't mean to hit you."

"I know," he said. "It hurts, and I want my Dad. I don't like baseball."

"It's okay. I didn't like it at first. You'll get better. Does it still hurt?" he asked him. Kurt touched it experimentally. It hurt to touch, but at least he could talk. The coach came back with a bag of ice and made him hold it against his jaw.

"You sit like that. Your dad is on his way," he told him. Kurt felt relieved. His dad would take him home, and he would never play baseball again. Even though he hated baseball, Finn was pretty nice to him.

After listening to him talk on and on, his dad finally came.

"Hey, kiddo," he said, scooping him up. "Lemme see." Kurt took the ice away and let him look at where the ball hit him. "Yeah, it's a little swollen. You'll be okay, though. We'll go home and give you some medicine to help it quit hurting. Are you ready to leave." Kurt nodded.

"Bye, Finn!" he called as his dad carried him to the truck. It was starting to hurt again, so he put the ice back on it. His dad buckled him in and pulled out of the parking lot.

"Was that kid the one who hit you?" he asked him.

"Uh huh. He didn't mean to, though. His name's Finn. He was nice to me. The other boys laughed at me," he explained. He took a deep breath. He knew it was the right time to tell him he wanted to quit. "Dad?"

"Yeah, bud?"

"I don't like baseball. The other boys laugh at me and the coach doesn't really like me and it's hard and I'm not good at it and I want to quit," he blurted out. His dad looked over at him as he stopped at an intersection.

"How long have you wanted to quit?" he asked.

"Since the first day. I wanna take dance," he admitted. His dad was silent for a minute as he began to drive again.

"You can quit baseball. We'll talk about dance later." Kurt stared out the window happily. He wasn't going to miss baseball, but he actually liked Finn. _Oh, well. Maybe I'll see him again._

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

So this is how Kurt met Finn! I feel like even though all the other boys were teasing him Finn would've still tried to be his friend. So yeah.

Also I was on the volleyball team as a freshman for about three days and everyone laughed at me when I called it "auditions" instead of tryouts and "rehearsal" instead of practice. So that's where that came from.


	17. Valentine's Day

"No, Dad, I can't use store-bought Valentines!" Kurt howled. Burt sighed. The third grade had a Valentine's Day party in two days, and Kurt had to have a card for every kid in his class. Apparently, he had to make every single one by hand, too.

"Kurt, these are easy. How about these?" he held up a box of Disney cards.

"No, I want to make them! Please?" he begged. Burt didn't see the point. He was going to put in way too much effort for cards that would inevitably be thrown away.

But he couldn't tell him no.

"Fine, let's go see what we can find. You can make them," he agreed. Kurt smiled and dashed off to another aisle. "Kurt Hummel don't you get lost again!"

Burt found him two aisles over, his arms already full of supplies.

"Whoa, what's all this?" he asked.

"The paper is for the cards, the stickers are to decorate them, and the ribbon is to make them cute," he explained. "It's necessary, Dad." Burt laughed and let him drop it in the cart. He was clearly enjoying himself, so he wasn't going to be the one to stop him.

After picking out a bag of candy and checking out, Burt let him push the cart to the truck. He made him soup for dinner at home and watched him get to work on his cards.

"How many do you need to make?" he asked.

"21 if you don't count me but if you do count Mrs. Marshall," he informed him. "I don't need any help."

"I know, I'm just watching. I can leave if you want to work alone," he told him. Kurt shook his head, not looking up from his stack of pink and red paper. Burt sat down across from him at the table.

Kurt worked meticulously and tirelessly. In half an hour he had only completed three cards, but they looked pretty good, much better than the ones straight from the box. There was no way he was ever going to finish at the rate he was going.

"You're gonna be up all night, kiddo. Let me help you," he said.

"No, I can do it," he insisted, pulling his supplies out of Burt's reach. The kid was so stubborn. He had no doubt got it from his mom.

"If you'd just let me cut the ribbon or fold the paper you'd be done a lot quicker," he coaxed. Kurt sighed, clearly thinking over his options.

"Fine. You have to fold the paper in half _exact_. It can't be off. Then cut the ribbon in six inch pieces. I can do the rest," he said confidently. Burt smiled as Kurt handed him the paper, ribbon, and scissors. Burt started helping him, and even though he had such simple tasks, he knew arts and crafts just weren't his thing. Kurt was patient and a perfectionist; Burt didn't really see why they needed to be flawless.

After helping him for another hour, they managed to finish ten more cards.

"I'll do the rest tomorrow night," Kurt said. "I'm going to take a shower now."

"Okay buddy. I'll read you your book and tuck you in when you're ready," he reminded him. Kurt nodded and disappeared up the stairs. Burt cleaned up everything and set it on the counter for him to finish the next night. He definitely wasn't cut out to be an artist, but he would do anything to help Kurt.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

Ah, Kurt is so stubborn. And his dad just wants to help him. They're so good together.


	18. Sing Along Sound of Music

"Dad, we can't be late!" Kurt told Burt for the millionth time as he got into the truck.

"We're not going to be late, we'll probably wind up getting there an hour early," he reassured him. He still couldn't believe he was taking him all the way to Columbus for some dumb sing along musical thing. Kurt was all dressed up, and had picked out his clothes for him so he would "be dressed appropriately".

Burt had never been to sing along Sound of Music. Elizabeth took him every year and they would both look forward to it for weeks. She first took him when he was only three, and Burt knew how much it meant to him to get to go, so he bought tickets. The look on Kurt's face was priceless when he surprised him.

The two-hour drive was going just fine, until forty-five minutes outside Lima the truck started acting funny.

"What's that noise?" Kurt asked. Burt pulled over to take a look.

"I don't know, I'm gonna go take a look at the engine. You stay here," he told him. Kurt nodded obediently as he got out. He opened the hood, and discovered that the engine was way overheated. He checked the coolant tank, and it was empty. He couldn't drive like that, especially with Kurt with him. He didn't want to risk anything, but he knew how disappointed Kurt would be if he didn't get to see his show.

Burt decided it would be safest to call Jake. Normally he would just keep driving, but they were going to have a long drive either way they went. He got back in the truck and buckled up again.

"Is it okay?" Kurt asked.

"I'm gonna call Jake. Just sit tight for a minute." Kurt stared out the window, and Burt knew he was worried sick whether they were going to make it or not. He didn't know what to tell him, so he just didn't say anything.

Thankfully Jake was at the garage still, and agreed to come get them.

"Are we gonna go back home?" Kurt worried.

"I don't know, buddy. It's gonna be okay, though," he tried to reassure him. Kurt sat cross-legged and played with his shoelaces, not bothering to look at him.

Jake managed to get there in thirty minutes to Burt's surprise. He hooked the truck up to his tow truck and Burt carried him to the door. He didn't want him walking by himself that close to the highway. He got in next to Jake and shut the door.

"We still got time to make it to his show?" he asked Burt. He was confused for a minute. He assumed they were just going back to Lima.

"You don't have to take us all the way there," he told him.

"No way. Everyday after school when he comes to the garage this show is all he's talked about." Burt didn't argue and just let him drive.

Kurt tapped him on the shoulder. "Where're we going?"

"Jake's gonna take us to Columbus for your show," he explained. Kurt smiled, clearly shocked.

"Really?"

"Really. What do you say to him?"

"Thank you," Kurt told him sweetly. Burt really appreciated what he was doing. It would break his kid's heart if he didn't get to see his little sing along thing.

The sun was setting right as they got there. "I'll take the truck back to Lima and come back for you two," Jake told them.

"Alright. Thanks a lot. You don't know how much this show means to him," Burt said.

"No problem. Have a good time."

Burt took him into the theater just a few minutes before the show was supposed to start.

"You excited kiddo?" he asked. Kurt nodded eagerly and fidgeted in his seat until the lights dimmed.

The show was horribly annoying. The whole audience sang along with it, and Burt got freaked out at first. With intermission the show was a total of four hours long, and he seriously doubted that he was going to be able to make it through the rest of the play.

He checked on Kurt periodically, and well into the second hour he was looking sleepy.

"You want to sit on my lap?" he whispered. Normally he would say no, but Kurt didn't object. He wrapped his arms around him and watched with him. He was so glad he actually got to see it. It only came to Ohio once a year, and that was his absolute favorite thing he did with Elizabeth. It was annoying and boring to Burt, but to Kurt it was the best thing ever.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

I was like finished with this, and then I decided to add in the part about the truck breaking down. I know nothing about cars so I had to use Google for like ten minutes until I could figure out something to go wrong. But basically I wanted something to happen so Kurt would be afraid he wouldn't get to go, and then his dad fixes it because he knows how much it means to him.

Also the guy Jake is just someone I made up in my head as an employee at the garage. I don't know 'Jake' just sort of sounds like a person who would work at a garage.


	19. Ballet

Burt opened the door to the dance studio and let Kurt walk in first.

"You excited to go back to class, buddy?" he asked him. Kurt nodded nervously.

"Hi, Kurt," Miss Susan, the teacher told him. Kurt stood on his tiptoes to be able to see her above the front desk.

"Hi," he said shyly.

"Everyone is in Studio A warming up right now. Are you ready to go?" she asked. Kurt nodded again and Burt followed him down the hall.

"You want me to go in with you?" he offered. Kurt shook his head.

"I can do it. Go sit with the parents," he told him. "Will you watch me?"

"Yup, I'll watch you. Have fun, okay?" Kurt nodded, and Burt left him alone as his son disappeared behind the door to the studio. Kurt had done ballet before, but when Elizabeth died he stopped going to class. Burt could tell he was missing it, so he put him back in class. It was a new dance season, so there were new kids in his class.

Burt walked up the stairs to the little room where parents could sit and watch. There were several moms already up there talking, but no other dads. Burt took a seat on the edge of the row of chairs, forcing himself to make it through the hour and a half rehearsal. He saw Miss Susan introduce Kurt to the group, and they got started stretching and working. Kurt was one of the smallest ones in his black tights and white shirt. He looked up periodically, and Burt waved at him.

"Who's that little boy? He hasn't been here before," one of the moms said.

"That's my son," Burt spoke up and said. "His name is Kurt."

"He's darling," a second mom added.

"What's a _boy_ doing in ballet class?" the first mom asked. She had frizzy red hair and was wearing too much lipstick. Burt frowned. When Kurt had been to dance before Elizabeth went on and on about how much the moms loved him. He didn't see what the lady's problem was.

"He likes to dance, so I put him in class," he told her. "Boys can dance too, you know." The lady sneered. "Is that a problem?" he was completely ready to defend him. She had no right picking on an eight-year-old little boy.

"He'll probably grow up to be gay," she said. "Little boys should play baseball, not be in ballet. That's just bad parenting." Burt stood up.

"You don't talk about my kid that way," he hissed, lowering his voice. He pointed his finger at her. "He can do whatever he wants and be whoever he wants to be, and that is none of your business. If he wants to dance I'm gonna let him dance. What's it to you? Worry about yourself instead of name calling my eight-year-old." He sat back down, not bothering to look at her. Kurt waved at him again, and he had to pretend like nothing was wrong for him.

But Kurt was gay. He had known since he was just a toddler. Elizabeth figured it out even before he did. It wasn't just that he liked to sing and dress up and all he wanted to do was walk around in high heels. After Elizabeth watched all the Disney princess movies with him, all he talked about was wanting to marry a prince someday.

But that didn't matter. It didn't matter if he was gay or straight or whatever, Burt wasn't going to let anyone, let alone some crazy frizzy haired dance mom, degrade him for taking ballet. He wasn't going to let anyone push the Hummels around.

The other mom, the one who called Kurt "darling" came over and sat next to Burt.

"Everyone hates her," she whispered to him. "No one's had the guts to do what you did." Burt smiled, feeling proud of himself for standing up for his son.

After the class was over he went back down to take him home.

"Hey, buddy. Did you have fun?" he asked. Kurt nodded.

"Did you see me?" he asked.

"Sure did. You're a good little dancer, bud. Ready to go home?" Kurt nodded, and Burt carried his bag out to the car for him. The class must have worn him out, because he could hardly stay awake on the drive back to their house. He looked over at him as he came to a stop at an intersection. He knew in the back of his mind that that had only been the beginning of having to stand up for him.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

After the ballet song on last week's Glee I was really thinking about how Kurt's mom would've put him in dance and stuff, but then after she died he just stopped going, but then Burt put him back in ballet and he was a precious little dancer.

I would also love it if you have any kind of prompt or request for this story to leave it in the comments. I want to write what you want!


	20. Bully

Burt didn't like getting calls from Kurt's school. It either meant he was sick and he needed to come get him, or that something else had happened. It was never a good thing. When his office phone rang and it was the principal on the phone, he was instantly worried. He said that at recess some kid had pushed Kurt off of one of the swings. One of his little girl friends saw it happen, and all three of them were in the office, and that Kurt refused to go back to his class. Burt hung up and got in his truck and drove to the school, furious. Kurt had been bullied a couple of times before. He never did anything to anyone, and he was the smallest kid in his grade. Burt couldn't see why anyone would want to pick on him at all.

When he parked and went inside the main office, Kurt, his friend, and the kid who hurt him were all sitting on a bench outside the office.

"Dad," he said, sounding relieved. Burt bent down and gave him a hug.

"Hey, kiddo. You want to go home?" he asked. Kurt nodded, and Burt looked down at his leg. His knee was scraped up, and he had two pink Band-Aids on it. "Sit tight for a minute. What did the principal say to you?"

"He said he would call you, and that I could stay here until you came," he said. Burt could tell he was really tense, and almost seemed anxious.

"Well we'll leave in a minute. Sit here with your friend." He smiled at the girl as he stood up and went into his office. After shaking his hand, he shut the door and sat down.

"Mr. Hummel," the man began. He had thick glasses on, and was at least six inches taller than him. "Kurt and his friend both told me what happened. I also got an account from Scott, the boy who pushed him. He told me he wasn't intending to hurt him, and that he just wanted to use the swings. However, no form of bullying at all is going to be tolerated, so we're sending him home on a week's suspension, and when he returns he won't be allowed to go to recess for another week. He's apologized to Kurt, but your son is still upset, naturally, and he didn't want to go back to his class."

Burt sat back in his chair. He wasn't sure what to think. That kid could've easily been lying to him about not trying to hurt him. He wasn't cut out for dealing with those kinds of things. At least they were punishing the kid.

"I'll take him home. Thank you for calling me," he said. The principal thanked him and Burt went back out to get Kurt. "Ready to go?" he asked Kurt. He nodded and held his hand as they walked outside. "Did you only scrape your knee? Or does it hurt anywhere else?"

Kurt shook his head. "Just my knee. It stings a little. The nurse cleaned the dirt off of it." Burt took him to get lunch since he hadn't eaten yet, and then let him help him at the garage for the rest of the day. It bugged him that Kurt didn't even seem bothered by what happened. He was glad he wasn't hurt any worse, but it was like he was just used to it. Burt realized he was going to have to defend him, even when no one else would.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

It really bugged me that when Karofsky was torturing him that no one did anything to help, except for Mr. Shue kind of, and Blaine. In elementary school the administration was really on top of things, but up in middle school and high school everyone talked about not bullying, but didn't do anything about it. So yeah. And Burt is super protective of him when stuff like this happens.


	21. The Trouble With Cats

"Kurt, don't take it out of the cage," Burt warned, checking his mirror so he could see what he was doing in the backseat. The last thing he needed was a cat crawling around his car. He still couldn't believe he had bought him a pet. The kid's birthday wasn't for two more months, but Kurt had already told him multiple times that a cat was the only thing he wanted. Burt was more of a dog person, but if all he wanted was a kitten, then he wasn't going to argue. He had wanted to get him a dog for the longest time, but a cat would have to do. Tony from the garage had a friend who just had kittens, so he took Kurt to get one for his early birthday gift. It was mostly black, with white paws and a white spot on its head. Kurt had no trouble picking out the one he wanted. They stopped at the pet store on the way home and bought food and a litter box, and Burt had made an appointment with the vet for the next day.

"Dad, I don't know what to name her," Kurt sighed, sticking his fingers through the cage.

"Well, it's a girl, so try out whatever you like until you find one that fits," he told him as he turned into their neighborhood.

Burt carried the cage inside with Kurt hot on his heels. "Don't scare it," he told him as he set the little kitten down on the couch. Kurt unlatched the cage and pulled it out. It meowed at him and tried to get away.

"I'm naming her Maria," he declared. _Maria? Oh, that's the nanny from the musical he loves._

"That's a good choice," he told him. "You want to go take him upstairs and show him your room?"

"Dad, it's a girl," Kurt reminded him.

"Sorry, _her_," he corrected. _As if it matters._ Kurt carried the cat up the steps carefully, talking to it softly. Burt set up its food and water dish and out the litter box in the spare bathroom that they never used. Elizabeth would've been all over it. She loved animals, but refused to get a dog after Kurt was born. She said a dog would be too rough with him and knock him over when he started to walk. She always talked about having a cat, and turned their son into a cat person. At least he was happy now that he had a pet of his own.

"Dad!" Kurt called, hurrying down the stairs. He was holding his wrist in his opposite hand, and he was bleeding.

"What happened?" he asked, looking at his arm carefully.

"She scratched me," he grumbled. "I tried to set her on my bed and she scratched my arm and hissed at me." Burt was worried. Could a cat have rabies? No, they wouldn't let them take it home if it had rabies.

"Come here, we'll get it cleaned up. Where is she right now?" he asked.

"She got scared and went under my bed," he told him. Burt picked him up and sat him on the counter. He rinsed off the cut with soap and water and put a princess Band-Aid on it.

"There you go. Why don't you leave her alone for a little bit?" he suggested. He didn't know anything about animals or pets, but the cat had to be pretty scared. "Let her get used to your room."

"She doesn't like me," Kurt pouted. "She's scared of me." He crossed his arms and stared down at the floor.

"No, that's not true. Just be gentle with it. She'll warm up to you," Burt said. "It'll take a couple days before it gets used to everything." He helped him down from the counter and patted his shoulder.

"I guess I'll give her some space," he sighed. "Thanks, Dad."

"You're welcome, buddy. Happy early birthday," he said. Kurt left the kitchen and disappeared back up the stairs. He would never in a million years buy a cat for anyone else, but he couldn't say no to Kurt, especially about something that he had wanted since his mom was alive.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

I can see Burt wanting to get him a dog, but Kurt wants nothing to do with the idea and so he winds up getting him a kitten for his birthday.

Also Kurt and Blaine get a cat when they're married, but have to get rid of it when they have their first kid. (I'm writing a chapter for my other story about their kids, by the way. It'll be up in a few days). So yeah. Blaine hates cats, too, but he just lets Kurt do what he wants.


	22. Parent-Teacher Conferences

Burt never knew what to expect with parent-teacher conferences. He didn't go to the ones in the fall, but he was curious to see what Kurt's teacher had to say about him. He fed his son dinner and left him with the babysitter before going down to his school. He had no trouble finding his classroom, and he stepped inside slowly. Kurt's teacher, Mrs. Marshall, was sitting at her desk writing something down. He cleared his throat and she looked up at him.

"Hi, Mr. Hummel, she said, standing up to shake his hand. He smiled and sat down across from her. She took off her glasses and folded her hands on the table. Burt was anxious to hear her thoughts on Kurt. "Kurt has been doing very well lately. He's certainly improved since the beginning of the year."

Burt smiled. He was doing good. Nothing was wrong. "How so?"

"He's more social," she began, "last semester he didn't really talk to anyone. He almost seemed afraid to talk to his classmates, but now he has a few friends. I see him playing at recess with them. He used to just sit on the curb until it was time to come in. He's been doing better academically as well. His reading scores have been higher. He has a little trouble in math, but we're just starting out on multiplication so he has time to catch up."

Wow. Burt didn't realize how far he had come just in the last seven and a half months since school began.

"Does he seem to be struggling at all?" he asked her. The last couple weeks Kurt had been much more quiet and reserved than he usually was. Burt had tried to talk to him and get through to him, but Kurt wasn't interested. He was beginning to worry, but he figured the kid just wanted some space.

"Sometimes he can be withdrawn and doesn't want to participate," she told him. "I make him try to be a part of the group, and usually he does just fine, but he has his off days." Burt nodded, trying to think. "He's very talented, though. The music teacher just loves him."

"Yeah, he's into singing and dancing and that stuff. He does ballet on Tuesday nights," he said.

"I think that's good for him. Just let him do what he loves," the teacher advised. "If you don't mind my asking, how long has it been since your wife's death?"

Burt stopped to think. Elizabeth died July eleventh. It was April seventeenth.

"Nine months," he told her. A year ago he would've never imagined saying that.

"My husband died in the military. My daughter was five at the time. She didn't understand what was going on at first. I'm sure he still feels confused sometimes about what happened. The first year is always the hardest. But it gets better. It really does."

Burt nodded, a little doubtful. The past nine months had definitely been crazy in every aspect. Things were going much better than he expected the first few days after she died. Still, he was glad to hear it would improve more. He stood up and thanked the teacher for her time.

He was happy to see Kurt when he got home. Lindsay was watching a Full House rerun with him. The cat he'd bought him for a present was asleep on his lap.

"Hey, kiddo," he said as he stepped in the door.

"Hi," he mumbled, still focused on his show.

"He already took a shower," the babysitter told him. "We've just been watching TV for a little bit." Burt thanked her and gave her a $20 dollar bill before she left.

"It's almost time for bed," he told him. "Come on." Kurt turned off the TV obediently and followed him up the stairs to his room.

"What'd my teacher say?" he asked, climbing into his bed. The cat woke up and curled up again at his feet.

"She likes you. Said you're doing really well, especially in music. And she's glad you're making friends." Kurt smiled.

"I'm glad, too. Mrs. Marshall is nice," he murmured.

"Good. I'm glad you like her. Go to sleep, kiddo. I'll see you in the morning," he told him. Kurt nodded, and he turned out his light before leaving his room. They still had a long way to go, but Burt was confident they were doing fine, just the two of them.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

Ugh, I used to hate when my mom would go to parent teacher conferences. I was always a good kid at home but at school I was so bad.

Anyways, I like looking at this from Burt's point of view of how far they've made it with just the two of them.


	23. Mother's Day

Burt had been dreading this day for nine months. It was Mother's Day, and he wasn't sure what he and Kurt were supposed to do. His third grade class had spent the last week working on special projects for the holiday, and he knew it was upsetting him, so he kept him home from school Friday. He let him work at the garage with him, and that cheered him up for a little.

But it didn't last for long.

The weekend had been quiet and somber. Kurt went to work with him for half the day on Saturday, and then they came home. Burt was trying not to get upset by the upcoming holiday, especially in front of Kurt, but it was unavoidable.

He had heard his son crying himself to sleep the night before, and he felt like the worst dad in the world not knowing what to say or do to comfort him. He let him sleep in his bed for the night; something Kurt hadn't done in at least a month. But that wouldn't fix it. He couldn't bring her back or make him not upset anymore. If only it worked that way.

Burt was determined to try to keep the day from being miserable for both of them. Kurt was sitting on the couch, watching cartoons when he got up.

"Hey, kiddo. You're up early. Have you eaten?" he asked. Kurt shook his head, so Burt made him breakfast. Even though it was only cereal, he actually smiled when he brought it to him.

"Thanks." Burt made himself some coffee and then sat down next to him.

"Do you want to go down to the cemetery today?" he asked. Kurt looked up at him and pressed his lips together before nodding. Burt patted his shoulder and got up to get dressed.

He didn't know what he was supposed to wear to visit his dead wife at the cemetery. He settled for church clothes, and helped Kurt put on his suit he wore to the funeral. They drove in silence, Kurt staring out the window and not saying anything. Burt didn't know what to do. There was nothing he could say or do to make him feel better, and that was the worst feeling.

It was a beautiful day outside, despite being somewhat cold. "Come on," Burt said to him. Kurt walked a good ten feet behind him, looking down at the ground. They walked through the cemetery, which was mostly empty. He saw her gravestone and felt nervous. They hadn't been there in over a month. Burt stopped and waited for Kurt, who was dawdling behind him. He held out his hand and waited for him to catch up. Kurt placed his hand in his, and they walked the rest of the way together.

"I changed my mind," Kurt said quietly. "Let's go home." Burt bent down next to him and pushed his hair back from his face. His eyes were already red and puffy from crying.

"We don't have to stay long," he promised. "I think you'll be upset if we turn around and leave now." Kurt sniffled and looked away. "Come on." He stood up and Kurt held his hands up. Burt picked him up and carried him the rest of the way. He set him down, and Kurt just sat on the grass. Burt sat down next to him and read the words inscribed on the stone in front of them.

"We should've brought flowers," his son mumbled. "All the other ones have flowers." Burt had completely forgotten about flowers. He knew it was bad and wrong, but he got up, took a rose from the grave next to Elizabeth's, and set it down in front of her stone.

"There. That's better than nothing, right?" Kurt shrugged.

"On Thursday in art everyone made Mother's Day cards," he began, "I didn't know what to do. I made a card because I thought it would be nice, but I left it at home." His voice caught in his throat, and he began to cry. Burt picked him up and held him on his lap. He was crying pretty hard, and he didn't try to calm him down. He couldn't make it better.

"I'm sorry, buddy," was all he said. "You don't have to leave a card." He rubbed his back and let him cry into his shoulder.

"I m-miss M-Mommy," he sobbed, his voice muffled.

"I know, kiddo. I know."

Kurt cried until Burt's shirt was nearly soaked in tears. Burt kissed the top of his head and just wanted to make it better.

"Can we go h-home now?" Kurt choked out. Burt stood up and held him.

"Yeah, we'll go home. Get the card you made and we can bring it next time." He carried Kurt to the car and buckled him in.

Even though it made him so upset, he didn't regret bringing him. They couldn't just go on with their lives and pretend it never happened. At least there was still the two of them.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

This was actually kind of hard to write. But I hope you like it!


	24. Summer

Burt stood outside the garage, waiting for Kurt to come around the corner. It was the last day of school for him, and Burt had promised him that he would be there waiting for him when he got to the garage after the bus dropped him off. He checked his watch. He should be coming any minute. Finally, he saw him come around the corner and hurry over to him.

"Hey, kiddo. How was the last day?" he asked him, eager to hear about his day.

"It was good, we got to have lunch outside and Mrs. Marshall brought us all cupcakes and we got thirty extra minutes of recess. Plus the art teacher let me bring everything home that I made," he said. Burt walked him inside to his office, and Kurt pulled out a thick stack of artwork from his backpack.

"This is pretty good, bud. We'll have to hang it on the fridge." He found a picture Kurt had colored in crayon. It looked like it was supposed to be a family portrait, and it was jus the two of them on it. He had drawn him in his overalls and himself as just a stick figure. Burt set it aside without saying anything. "I guess you don't have any homework. You can play games on my computer until it's time to go. If Jake or Tony need any help then they'll let you work with them." Burt got up so he could sit in his chair and he went back to work.

He thought back to Kurt's first day of school as he began changing a tire. His son had clung to him like glue, and was willing to do anything to not have to stay at school without him. He had definitely changed since then, and was way more independent than he ever expected. He wasn't the same kid that he was before his mom died, but he was definitely growing up. It wouldn't be long before he was in middle school, and then high school, and then leaving him to go to college. Burt tried not to think about it, but he knew it was coming quickly. The kid was already going to be in fourth grade. He didn't want to miss out on any opportunities with him.

"Kurt, you want to come help me?" he called. He saw him jumped up and come out of the office. "Let's put new tires on this."

"I can't get my clothes dirty," he protested.

"We can wash them." Kurt picked up a wrench to hand it to him.

"I'm in fourth grade," he told him proudly.

"I know, buddy. Before long you'll be in middle school." He saw his eyes widen.

"Whoa." Whoa was right. He was growing up so fast, and Burt hadn't even noticed until then. He was going to miss him when he was gone. No more Friday night dinners or him waking up crying from a nightmare or hearing him sing in the shower. He had to enjoy him while he still had time.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

I like to think that this was the first time that Burt realized just how much he loved his son and was going to miss him when he left for college, even though it was so far away. Even though they don't have much in common he was going to be lost and alone when he left, but then Carole came along. I hope you liked this! If you have any prompts or think of anything I should add to this story then I want to hear it!


	25. Ninth Birthday

Burt quickly shut off his alarm clock before it woke Kurt up. It was the morning of his ninth birthday, and he couldn't let him see what he was going to do. He knew that he had to make it a special birthday for him since it was the first one without Elizabeth around. She would always bake him whatever flavor of cake he wanted, and would decorate it with fancy lettering that said 'Happy Birthday Kurt!' Burt wasn't quite capable of that, so he went to the best cake decorator in Lima and had him make one that looked identical to how she made them. He knew he was going to love it.

He checked on him in his room once he got up. Thankfully Kurt was still asleep, his kitten curled up at his feet. He bought it for him a couple months earlier as an early gift, but he had to do more. The kid couldn't wake up on his ninth birthday with no presents.

But that was the problem. He had no clue what to get him. Kurt hadn't given him a list, or even mentioned his birthday to him at all, really. He got some helium filled purple and blue balloons from the store and had kept them in the garage overnight so he wouldn't see them. Burt dug them out and taped them to both ends of the kitchen counter. He learned back at Christmas that he was awful at wrapping gifts, so all of his presents were just put in bags with colorful tissue paper. He meticulously arranged them on the counter so they would be the first things Kurt saw when he came down the stairs.

Burt didn't want to risk starting a fire in the kitchen, so for breakfast he decided to make him frozen waffles in the toaster once he was awake. It wasn't his first choice, but he couldn't do the fancy breakfast burritos or crêpes the Kurt could somehow pull off. And he didn't want him cooking breakfast on his own birthday.

He waited impatiently for Kurt to finally get up. He didn't want to wake him up or else he would know something was up. Burt sat on a barstool in front of the counter, watching for him to appear on the stairs.

Half an hour after he got everything ready and set up, he heard Kurt's bedroom door open, and he started down the stairs, holding his cat under his arm.

"Dad?" he asked, looking surprised at everything. He had no clue what was going on, and his jaw dropped. "What's this?"

"Happy birthday, buddy," he told him, stepping out of the way so he could see all of his presents. Kurt set Maria on the floor and slowly walked over to where he was. The look of pure surprise on his face made everything worth it.

"I thought… I thought Maria was my only present," he said, still shocked.

"No, come on, you can open them now," he coaxed. He picked him up and sat him on the stool and watched as he looked over all of them. He had gotten him nine presents, not counting the cat, since it was his ninth birthday. He wasn't sure if that was too many of not, but it didn't matter. Kurt picked a bag and pulled it over to him, picking out the tissue paper carefully. He saw his face light up with joy when he pulled out what was inside. Burt had managed to get him his very own pair of coveralls, just like the ones he wore to work. They even had his name on it, and he made sure they were just his size.

"I can work in the garage and without getting my clothes messy!" he exclaimed. Kurt took his outfits seriously.

"Yeah, you can. They've got your name on them, too." Kurt folded them carefully and set them aside, then reached for another gift. Burt honestly didn't remember what gift was in which bag, but he found out soon enough.

"I got shoes," he said, opening the box. Burt knew he hated his Nike tennis shoes he had bought him for Christmas, so he figured Converses would suit him better. "They're purple!" Kurt put them on his feet, even though he wasn't wearing socks. "I like them."

"Well I'm glad, kiddo. Finish opening your gifts and we can have breakfast."

Kurt was so slow at opening his presents, but he was just savoring the moment. Burt got him his shoes, coveralls, a basket to attach to his bike, a purple shirt to match his shoes, the new Harry Potter book he'd been wanting, a tutu for him to wear to his ballet class, a CD with his Sound of Music songs on it, a season pass to the water park, and an Easy Bake oven. He didn't care if it was too many presents; the kid was on cloud nine.

Burt learned his lesson at Christmas that he had to get him things that he actually wanted. The things he bought him five months earlier were Legos and Nerf guns that Kurt hadn't still hadn't even opened. He hated seeing his face, watching him pretend to like his presents when in reality it wasn't anything that he could use. Besides, the clothes and shoes were things he would need. The oven was so he could bake his stuff without wrecking the kitchen.

After making him breakfast he told Kurt they could do whatever he wanted. Surprisingly, he just wanted to go to the garage. He put on his new coveralls and shoes and Burt drove him down to work.

"Why'd you pick the garage, buddy?" he asked him in the car. "We could've gone to the park or the movies or something."

"I want to show Jake and Tony my clothes. And I'm gonna help." He sounded so confident. Burt remembered several months earlier when he was still so upset and confused by his mother's sudden death.

He parked in his usual spot and walked inside with Kurt. Everyone was surprised to see them there, but glad nonetheless. Burt let him help him work on an engine, and even though he was only handing him tools, he was still content.

Burt was still having a hard time believing the kid was already nine years old. He clearly remembered driving to the hospital, and being scared out of his mind. He had no clue how to be a dad, but the first time he held Kurt he was in love. Nine years later he could still say the same thing.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

I can really see Burt going all out for his birthday. And I think he did a pretty good job, even though he was uncertain at first.


	26. Broken Arm

Burt was glad Kurt was finally spending time with another kid his age after not doing much for the first two weeks of summer. One of his girl friends from school invited him to go swimming at the waterpark, so he agreed to let him spend the day with her.

He spent the day at the garage, thankful to have a day of peace and quiet to just work. He loved having Kurt around to help him out, but a break from his constant singing was nice.

It was around 2:30 in the afternoon when he the got the phone call. It was his friend's mom letting him know that Kurt had slipped and fallen badly. Apparently he couldn't stop crying so they were taking him to the hospital to get checked out. That sent Burt into a panic. Kurt was hurt and he wasn't with him. He heard the sound of him crying in the background and knew he had to get to him. He grabbed his car keys and got in his truck.

"How bad is he hurt?" he asked, trying to stay calm.

"He just keeps saying his arm hurts. He only slipped but landed pretty hard on it," the woman explained. "We're almost to the hospital, and we'll take him in the emergency room entrance." Burt hurried, but tried not to speed. The last thing he needed was to get pulled over. He hung up the phone and drove the rest of the way to the hospital in silence. What if Kurt was seriously hurt? He hoped he hadn't hurt his head or neck.

After parking haphazardly Burt hustled into the emergency room. Kurt's friend's mom had a clipboard and was already filling out his name and birthday. Kurt was sitting next to her, wrapped up in his pink beach towel.

"Daddy," he moaned.

"Hey, buddy. Come here, it's okay." He gingerly picked him up and held him on his lap. It broke his heart to hear him whimper in pain. "Shh, it's okay. Where's it hurt?"

"A-arm," he choked out, his chin trembling. Burt untucked his towel and took a look at it. He cradled his left arm against his stomach, and there was a telltale bump along his forearm. He covered it back up and eased his head onto his shoulder.

"Just relax, it's gonna be okay. Does it hurt anywhere else?" Kurt shook his head, and Burt turned to his friend's mom. "Thanks for taking care of him. You don't have to wait around with us. I can take care of it." The woman handed him the clipboard.

"I filled out as much as information as I could. Come on, Mercedes," she said.

"Bye, Kurt," the little girl waved at him. Kurt said goodbye to her, and Burt finished filling out all the papers. A nurse came and took it from him so he didn't have to get up and move Kurt any more.

"What happened, kiddo?" he asked.

"I was r-running, and I f-fell backwards, a-and there was a step and my arm h-hit it," he explained, beginning to cry again. Burt wished he knew how to comfort him. He knew better than to run at a swimming pool, but he decided it was best to not get onto him right then.

"We'll get it fixed up," he assured him. "It's gonna be okay." He brushed his damp hair off of his forehead and tried to keep his arm still.

Once a nurse called Kurt's name Burt carried him back to a room. She let him sit up, and carefully moved his arm onto a pillow. Kurt cried out in pain and squeezed his dad's hand.

"It's okay," he said in a low voice to him. He was desperate to make him more comfortable. "Hold my hand, I'm right here."

"How'd you hurt yourself?" the nurse asked Kurt.

"I f-fell at the waterpark," he mumbled.

"He was with his friend," Burt added. "I wasn't there, but the only thing he's complaining about is his arm." The nurse wrote something down on her chart and then unwrapped his towel. Kurt began to shiver, but she got him a blanket to cover up with.

"We'll start him on an IV of pain medication to help him relax a little. Then once he can sit still we'll take some x-rays," she told Burt. He thanked her for her help as she walked out.

"The nurse is gonna give you something to take the pain away," he said to Kurt. "You'll start to feel better after it kicks in."

"I wanna go home," Kurt pleaded. "I wanna lay down." Burt tried to get the bed to lie back, and he finally found a switch.

"There you go. We'll go home in just a little bit," he promised. "They're gonna fix your arm up." Kurt closed his eyes and Burt looked down at him. He looked so tiny in the hospital bed. He stuck his thumb in his mouth and shifted positions slightly, still visibly uncomfortable.

The nurse returned ready to give him his IV, and he started to get upset.

"Dad, no," Kurt begged, trying to turn away from her. Burt held his good arm still so she could clean it off with her rubbing alcohol. He didn't want to have to hold him down.

"It's okay," he soothed. "It won't hurt if you relax. Close your eyes and it'll be over real quick." Kurt squeezed his eyes shut and the nurse stuck him in the back of the hand. He let out a whimper, but didn't cry. "It's in," Burt told him. "You're all done. Now your arm's gonna start to feel better."

Kurt slowly opened his eyes and blinked several times. "No more needles?"

"No more needles. You did really good," he praised. The nurse pressed an ice pack onto his arm. "Oh. That's cold."

"You should start feeling a little better here in a couple of minutes. Then we'll take some x-rays of your arm and see how we can fix it," the nurse said to him.

"Then can I go home?" he asked eagerly.

"We'll have to see, but I bet you can." Kurt looked over at his dad anxiously, and Burt knew how much he wanted to get out of there. "I have other patients to check on, but I'll be back to get him into x-ray." She left again, and Burt pulled up a stool next to the bed.

"How are you feeling, kiddo?" he asked him.

"Weird. My arm feels funny. I don' like it." Kurt tried to pull the ice off of his arm, but Burt gently lowered his hand down to his side.

"Just relax. It'll go away after a little bit. We'll be home really soon."

Whatever drug the nurse gave him took total effect after a few more minutes. Kurt became relaxed and groggy, and had completely stopped crying. The nurse let Burt carry him down the hall to the x-ray room.

"Daddy," he slurred. "Don't go."

"I'll be right outside, kiddo. This is only gonna take a couple of minutes. All you gotta do is hold still," he told him. The technician positioned his arm carefully and Burt stood back as they took several pictures. Once they were done, he picked him up again. "There you go. That's all you had to do." he cradled him in his arms and followed the nurse down a different hallway to a new room. Burt sat on the bed and continued to hold him; he would get upset when he tried to put him down.

"Mommy," he pouted. "Want Mommy." Burt wanted her, too. She would be able to make him feel better.

"I know, buddy. But it's gonna be okay," he promised him. "We'll go home and you can rest and watch Cinderella. Would you like that?" Kurt nodded weakly and buried his face in his dad's shoulder.

The nurse from before and a new doctor came into the room several minutes later. His x-rays clearly showed he broke the bigger bone in his forearm. Burt held his head so he wouldn't see it and get scared. The two pieces weren't lined up, so the doctor had to push on it and work with it to bring them back together. Kurt got worked up and cried heavily, but once they wrapped his arm in a little purple cast he calmed down. The nurse removed his IV and made Burt sign several papers.

"Are we leaving?" Kurt asked, sounding exhausted.

"Yeah, we're going home." He draped his towel over him and carried him to the truck. Buckling him in was difficult, but he managed to do it without hurting him.

He stopped by the pharmacy and got the prescription pain medicine the doctor called in for him. Once they got home he carried him inside and laid him on the couch. Kurt was still in his swim trunks, so Burt carefully changed him into a T-shirt and pajama pants. He tucked him in snugly and elevated his arm on a pillow.

"What would you like to eat, bud? I can make you a sandwich or a can of soup," he offered.

"Sandwich," he murmured. Burt made him a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and put on Cinderella for him. Once he ate and took his pain medicine, the kid was out like a light. Burt turned off the TV so he could rest, but stayed in the living room so he could keep an eye on him. A broken arm was pretty painful, Burt would know, but at least it would be okay. He wasn't in the hospital and he didn't need surgery. He was gonna get better, even with Burt having to do all the work.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

I like to write Burt having to take care of him and hovering over him to make sure he's okay, so I wrote this. Basically this is how I broke my arm when I was nine. It happened the first week of summer and I got my cast off the week before school started. And I was dumb and picked a tie-dye cast, which if you Google it and look at the pictures, is just about the ugliest kind of cast you can get. So when I broke my leg a month ago I was smart and got a pink one.

So that is the backstory for that. Let me know what you thought of it!


	27. Fight

Two and a half more hours. Two and a half more hours until they could go home and Kurt would leave him alone. It seemed like the longest workday ever. It was summer and Burt couldn't do anything with Kurt, so he brought him along to the garage. The kid had been bugging the crap out of him all day. He insisted on helping him with every repair he made, but he was clumsy with his cast on his arm and hurt more than he helped. Burt took him to get lunch at McDonald's, but he wouldn't eat any of it. He didn't want to force him to eat, so he just let him go without lunch. Kurt would get grumpy is he was too hungry or tired, so he was a real pain in the afternoon.

"Can I help?" he asked, or rather whined, as Burt began putting new tires on a sedan. He sighed. He just wanted the kid out of his hair.

"Not right now, kiddo," he told him. "You've helped all day. Go play games on my computer or read your book." He wasn't looking at him, but he could tell he was getting frustrated.

"I want to help!" he cried, stamping his foot. Burt set his wrench down and turned around to him.

"You're not going to help at all if you act like that. Now go sit in my office," he ordered. "Now." Kurt stubbornly crossed his arms, looking awkward with his big purple cast.

"You're mean!" he yelled, his chin trembling. Burt couldn't deal with him crying. He had too much to get done.

"Just shut up and get out of here!" he snapped. He turned back around to do his work, and he heard him run away, crying, and his office door slam shut. He knew he'd been too hard on him. He just wanted to help him, and he exploded at him. He wasn't good at discipline. He rarely had to tell him twice to do something, and he was so well behaved usually. He had to go make things right, but he figured it would be best to give him a few minutes to calm down.

The kid was crying so hard he could hear him through the door. Once it finally died down he got up to go talk to him. The only problem was that he had locked the office door, and Burt's keys were in there.

"Kurt," he said softly, knocking on the door. "Let me in."

"No," he heard him pout. He didn't want to get even more upset at him, but he was going to have to come out eventually.

"Come on, kiddo. I want to talk to you. I'm not mad at you." After several seconds he heard the click of the door being unlocked. Burt twisted the knob and stepped inside. Kurt was sitting on the chair, his feet several inches above the ground. He looked down at the floor, avoiding eye contact. Burt knelt down in front of him and Kurt glanced at him, his eyes red and puffy.

"Listen to me, buddy. I didn't mean to get upset at you. You just wanted to help me. I didn't mean to make you cry. I just needed to get some work done. I'm sorry I made you upset," he told him.

"It's okay," he mumbled. "I was bored and wanted to do something."

"I know," he said, patting him on the shoulder. "It's kind of boring around here. You want to help me change some tires?" Kurt nodded. "Once we're finished we can head out a little early. We'll get you something to eat, too." Kurt slid down from the chair and Burt got him a cup of water. "Come on, gimme a hug." Kurt wrapped his arms around him, and Burt patted his back. "Let's go to work."

Kurt helped him work, but didn't say much the rest of the day. Even though he'd apologized, Burt knew he'd hurt him. Kurt had trusted him with so much, and he got mad at him for something so simple and stupid. He tried to make it up to him, but Kurt was still distant from him. Burt was going to have to try if he wanted to get through to him again.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

So... this was kind of hard to write. I don't know why, though. It was easy for me to picture in my head burt snapping at him, but it was hard to write. In the next to last episode of season 4 Burt yelled at him in the doctor's office, but it was hard to write him getting mad at him when he's still so little.

I feel like Kurt felt that he had to grow up really fast after his mom died, so Burt wasn't used to him having a tantrum like a normal kid his age would. Kurt's usually so well behaved because he doesn't want to make things even harder on his dad.


	28. 4th of July

The 4th of July was a tricky holiday for the Hummel men. Burt wasn't exactly sure what he was supposed to do. He knew Kurt wanted to go see fireworks, and the garage was closed so they had the whole day together. He couldn't take him to the pool because his arm was still in a cast. Elizabeth would always make a cake with blueberries and strawberries on top so it looked like a flag. Unless Kurt did it all by himself, that was too complicated. Tony from the garage suggested a picnic at the park. That way they could eat lunch and Kurt could play for a little bit before the fireworks show began. He brought it up to Kurt at dinner the night before.

"Is there anything you wanna do tomorrow, buddy?" he asked. "I'm not going to the garage."

"I don't care," Kurt shrugged, taking a bite of his sandwich.

"How about the park?" he suggested. "You want to go play and then watch the fireworks when it gets dark?"

"That's fine," Kurt said. "Can we put the flag outside?" Burt had to think. He wasn't exactly sure where their flag was, but he would find it after Kurt went to bed.

"We can do that. You want to make us lunch to bring with us?" Kurt nodded and looked down at his plate. Burt wanted to make it a fun day for him, but it was hard to tell what he was wanting.

After Kurt went to bed Burt dug their American flag out of the garage. Memorial Day weekend was Kurt's birthday so they were too busy to put it outside then, but Burt brushed the dust off and hung it outside. Kurt would like that.

Burt went to bed, excited to have a good day with him the next day. In eight days it would be one year since his wife died, and Kurt was starting to revert to how he was in the first few weeks after her death: closed off, quiet, and unreadable. Burt chose not to dwell on it. They were going to have a good day no matter what.

In the morning Kurt cooked eggs for breakfast. He was quite the chef, but Burt supervised to make sure he didn't burn himself or drop anything.

"For lunch I'm making turkey wraps with fruit salad," he stated with confidence.

"Sounds good, kiddo. We can leave whenever you're ready."

They ate breakfast and Kurt made their lunches. They had slept in so it was nearly noon by the time they got out the door. It looked like every family in Lima had come to the park, but they managed to find a spot to sit down and eat. Burt had wanted to just sit at a picnic table, but Kurt insisted on bringing a blanket and making it a "real" picnic. He got upset when ants crawled on the blanket, and he tried to stomp on them unsuccessfully.

"Buddy, you can't do anything about them. Here, switch spots with me. There's none over here," Burt told him. Kurt crawled over to the opposite side and finished his lunch quietly.

"Can I go play?" he asked after he had cleaned up his spot.

"Yup. Stay where I can see you, though," he warned. Kurt got up and ran off to the playground, and Burt packed up their picnic things and put it in the truck. He sat at a picnic table and watched him on the swings. It wasn't going to get dark for awhile, but he had no doubt Kurt could stay at the park for days if he was given the choice, so he let him swing to his hearts content.

Once the sun started setting everyone went to see the fireworks on the soccer field. They were kind of far away, so everyone had to stand.

"I can't see," Kurt grumbled. "I'm going to miss it!"

"Calm down," Burt told him. The kid could be dramatic sometimes. He picked him up and let him sit on his shoulders. The sun disappeared behind the horizon and the fireworks began quickly after that. Kurt had never been fond of the loud noise they made, but he did just fine.

After forty-five minutes they weren't done yet, but he could tell Kurt was getting worn out. He'd set him back on his feet and he wasn't even watching the fireworks anymore.

"Ready to go home?" he asked. Kurt nodded and leaned on him as they walked. Burt lifted him up and set him in his seat in the truck. "Did you have a good day?"

"Uh huh," he murmured. "It was fun." Burt started the truck and started to drive home. Spending all afternoon in the hot park wasn't Burt's idea of fun, but the kid had a good time, so that was all that mattered.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

So the fourth of July was always like my family's big holiday. It was pretty fun, and last year we got to watch the fireworks on the beach in the Bahamas. So yeah, good times. I'm sorry for not updating this yesterday but Mondays are usually the craziest day of the week, but I'll try harder to post everyday! I hope you liked this chapter!


	29. One Year

Burt woke up to the sound of the bed creaking next to him. He could faintly making out Kurt climbing up on the mattress, clinging to his blanket. Burt turned over to face him.

"Hey, kiddo. Did you have a bad dream?" he asked. Kurt shook his head and huddled next to him, his warm little body pressed up against his. Even though he was half asleep it didn't take long for Burt to put two and two together. It was July eleventh. It had been one year since Elizabeth passed away. He wrapped his arm around his son and kissed his forehead before tucking him in. "Just go to sleep. It's okay, I'm gonna be right here." Kurt closed his eyes, still not saying anything. Burt watched him until he was sure he was asleep. He didn't want him staying up half the night, upset. That was Burt's job.

He didn't understand what it meant to _miss_ someone until he lost his wife. They'd gone to McKinley together in high school, but she was two years younger than him so he didn't notice her much. At the University of Lima was when he got into a relationship with her. She was so much like Kurt- the same light brown hair, beautiful eyes, and perfect singing voice. Elizabeth had insisted on graduating college before getting married, so Burt started running the garage to be able to afford a house for them.

Once she graduated and started working as an accountant for the hospital, they got married. It wasn't much of a wedding, just their two families and some high school and college friends. He wished he could have given her a better wedding, but he bought her a house, so he figured that made up for it.

They had Kurt after being married a year and a half. They were planning on waiting at least a few years to have a kid, but Kurt was the best thing to happen to their little family. Elizabeth spoiled him rotten. It was impossible for her to say no to him. Kurt had never really been close to Burt, up until the last year. Kurt liked playing dress up and singing Broadway songs as a little kid. He was never into cars or sports or anything Burt liked.

It was the night of July eleventh that everything changed in their world. Elizabeth had gone on a day trip with one of her friends to Columbus, and when they were just two miles from home someone ran a red light and broadsided the car. Burt thought for the longest time that they had just been out later than they thought and had gotten a hotel or something. But the report of the crash was on the news, and twenty minutes later two police officers showed up at the door.

Burt didn't have much memory of the first night. He remembered that Kurt was in bed already, and so he had to wake him up to bring him to the hospital with him, which was pointless, because she was killed instantly. Kurt held onto him for dear life and wouldn't let him set him down. Burt held it together for his sake, but the next few days were the worst. Kurt would have nightmares and wake up screaming and crying for his mom. Relatives brought them food and cards, but neither of them ate. He didn't go into the garage for over a week.

The funeral was the hardest part. It was finally sinking in that he would never get to see his beautiful wife again. He would never hear her singing in the shower, or come home to her cooking dinner with Kurt. Those things would never happen again, and there wasn't anything he could do about it. Kurt had lost his _mom_, too. Every child needed a mom. Burt was certain at first that he wasn't cut out to be a dad, especially a single dad. He loved Kurt so, so much, but having to raise him all by himself seemed so difficult in the beginning.

A year later Burt was pretty proud of how far they'd come. He'd gotten Kurt through a whole year of school, countless nightmares and sleepless nights, and his first major surgery. He pushed him into doing baseball, which was a mistake, but he learned that dance was more his forte. Mother's Day was hard on both of them, but Kurt's birthday had gone better than Burt expected. The day he broke his arm was scary. Burt hadn't been with him when he got hurt, and he had no clue how bad it was or if he was even okay or not, but the kid had been brave about all of it.

Kurt had grown up so much faster than he should have. He was so mature and rarely argued or disobeyed him. He was a good kid, and Burt was proud to be his dad. Even if he had to raise him all alone for the rest of his life, it was worth it to him. They'd come a long way in a year, but they still had a lot left to go.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

I wanted to give a little backstory as to how Elizabeth died. First off, I picked Elizabeth for her name because Kurt's name is Kurt Elizabeth Hummel. I'm not real sure how that happened, but my name for her has always been Elizabeth. I didn't really want to give her cancer or something that would slowly kill her. The car wreck was obviously much more abrupt and unexpected, so Burt and Kurt had to learn how to cope immediately, not over the course of months to years with a terminal disease. And also my uncle has cancer, and it's hard enough to watch him go through it, I don't think I could write about the Hummel family going through it.

Well anyways I hope you liked this! I wish we knew more in the show about Kurt's mom. Maybe in season 5!


	30. Back to School Shopping

"Kurt, come on!" Burt yelled up the stairs. He was taking him to the mall to buy him new clothes and shoes to go back to school. It was three weeks away still, but the stores were already starting all their fall sales. His son came down the stairs, his purple Converses untied.

"I'm ready," he said, sitting down on the floor to tie his sneakers. Burt grabbed his keys and they both got in the truck. The mall was huge for a town the size of Lima, and it was rare that they went. He didn't want to lose Kurt in the huge building.

Once they parked and went inside Kurt dragged him around to all the clothing stores. He seemed to know exactly what he was doing. The kid was only nine years old, but Elizabeth had always dressed him up nicely, and he learned to love clothes. It was one of the many things Burt didn't understand about him.

He had just bought Kurt his Converse shoes for his birthday two months earlier, but he was already outgrowing them. So, they went up the escalator to the new shoe store that had just been added to the mall. Kurt nearly ran down all the aisles to see what he wanted.

"Dad, I want these!" he cried, holding up a pair of purple and white tennis shoes that were clearly meant for girls.

"Are you sure?" Burt asked. He stood up and walked him down the children boys' aisle. "What about these?" he picked up a pair of black and white Nike shoes. Kurt shook his head in disgust.

"No, Dad, I like these. Pretty please?" he begged. Burt would've let him buy them, but he didn't want him to get teased for wearing girl's shoes.

"Kurt, those aren't meant for boys," he told him quietly. Kurt crossed his arms, clearly frustrated. "I'm sure we can find you something to wear. Come on, let's keep looking."

"No," Kurt pouted. "I don't want boy shoes! I want _these_ shoes!" Burt sighed. The last thing he needed was for him to have a temper tantrum in the middle of the mall.

"Hey, hey, don't get upset. Listen to me. Hold onto those shoes. Let's just keep looking. Maybe we'll find some great purple boys' shoes. And if you don't find any you like then you can get these, okay?" Kurt nodded and wiped away the single tear that had fallen down his cheek. Burt led him down the rest of the aisle and tried to find something he liked. Kurt wouldn't agree to anything, and was still insisting on his girl shoes.

"I don't like any of those," he insisted. "I want these." Burt knew he was going to wind up buying them for him. He wasn't going to force him to wear something he didn't want to. The kid knew what he wanted about 100 percent of the time.

"Okay, you can get those shoes," he agreed. "Make sure they're the right size then let's go." To his surprise, Kurt hugged him. He never really did any of that to him, but it was then Burt knew how important those stupid little shoes were to him. If he wanted to wear girls' stuff then Burt shouldn't be the one to stop him. He paid sixty dollars for them, but it was money well spent if that's who Kurt was.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

I know this is pretty short but I just wanted to write a little drabble of them at the shoe store. I can see Kurt having a fit because his dad tries to get him to wear boy shoes.

Also, you can leave me any requests for a chapter if you have them! I have several already planned out but I want to write what you guys want. I hope you liked this!


	31. Backyard Football

"I don't want to play football," Kurt whined. "I just want to dance." After cleaning out the garage, Burt found his old football from college, and he wanted to teach Kurt how to throw and catch. He wasn't very athletic, but it would be good for him.

"You'll like it, kiddo," he told him, leading him out into the backyard. He had signed him up to play baseball several months earlier, but that was a disaster. Kurt wound up getting hit in the head with a ball, so Burt let him quit. He wished his son was more into sports than he already was, but the only thing he wanted to do was take dance classes.

"I don't like football," he complained. "I want to ride my bike." Burt sighed. The kid was so stubborn.

"Come on, bud," he coaxed. "Can you just try it? If you don't like it you can go ride your bike." Kurt crossed his arms and kicked at the dirt in the yard. "Come on, go stand by the fence." Kurt dragged himself across to the other side of the yard. Burt was second-guessing himself on the idea, but there was always the chance that he would turn out to be good at it. "Get ready to catch it!" he called. He threw the ball at him, but Kurt got scared and it hit him in the chest.

"Ow!" he cried. Burt jogged over to him and picked the ball up.

"It's okay," he said. "That was a good try. Do you want to try to throw it?" he could tell he didn't want to, but Kurt nodded anyway. He handed him the football and showed him how to throw it. "You got it, buddy. Let's see how you do." Kurt nodded skeptically, and Burt went back to where he had been originally standing. Kurt threw the football, but it only went about ten feet before bouncing off the ground. He looked discouraged and started to go back inside.

"I don't want to play," he grumbled. "Football is stupid!" Burt didn't want him to give up. He might not like it, but he didn't want him to be a quitter.

"Hey," he said. "No, kiddo, you were doing good. Don't give up. Do you want to try kicking the ball? I think you'd be good at that." Kurt paused, and then nodded.

"Then can I be done?" he asked. "This isn't very fun."

"Yeah, if you want to then you can be done after this," he promised. He held the ball down and told him what to do. Kurt got started, and actually did a good job. He kicked it at least twenty feet in the air. It didn't go very far, but he was good at it for a nine year old.

"Was that good?" he asked doubtfully. Burt gave him a high five.

"You bet, buddy. You'd be a good little kicker on the football team," he told him. Kurt frowned.

"Are you gonna make me take football?" he groaned. Burt laughed.

"No, you can do whatever you want," he assured him. He wished Kurt would take up a real sport, but that looked like it would never happen. It didn't matter, though. Kurt made him proud just by being him.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

I really really love the Preggers episode in season 1. Kurt would never in a million years play football willingly, but he wanted so bad to make his dad proud of him. And Burt just wants to connect to his son. They have nothing in common, really.

So I might not be able to post everyday this week, but after Thursday I will be free to write, so it's likely I will be back to updating this every day! Leave me any requests and I will fill them hopefully within a day or two.


	32. Halloween

"I'm wearing my tutu from dance class and I'm going to be the best ballerina there is," Kurt stated confidently over dinner. Burt wasn't exactly sure how he was supposed to handle that. It was Halloween, but he didn't necessarily want him walking around the neighborhood dressed up in something a girl would wear. As a little kid he and Elizabeth would put him in cute boy-ish costumes, like a lion when he was two and a dinosaur when he was four. But the kid was nine years old and could make his own decisions.

"Are you sure that's what you want to wear?" he asked. "What about your coveralls from the garage? You could go trick or treating as a mechanic," he suggested.

Kurt just made a face at that idea. "No. I'm wearing my tutu. Can we leave once I do the dishes?" he seemed eager to get some candy. The year before he hadn't wanted to go trick or treating for whatever reason, so they stayed in and handed out candy to the neighborhood kids. Burt wasn't very comfortable with him going out dressed as a ballerina, but the kid had already made up his mind.

"You can wear whatever. I'll do the dishes so you can go get ready," he told him. Kurt smiled and dashed up the stairs. He had barely touched his dinner, but it wouldn't hurt if he just ate candy for one night a year. Burt put Kurt's plate in the fridge in case he wanted to finish it, and then he put his in the dishwasher. He wasn't planning on taking him trick or treating right after dinner, but the earlier they left the earlier they could come back.

After nearly fifteen minutes, Kurt came back downstairs. He was dressed in pink from head to toe, except for his black ballet shoes he wore to his class. He even had the wand that Elizabeth bought him for his sixth birthday. Burt remembered it so well because he had put up a fight for him to buy him toys meant for boys, but she just insisted she was getting him what he wanted.

"I'm ready!" he exclaimed. "I need a bag for my candy." Since it was so last minute they couldn't run to the store to get one of those little plastic orange pumpkins, so Burt got him a paper sack from their trip to the grocery store the day before.

"This'll have to do," he told him. "The sun's going down so it won't really matter what it looks like." Kurt didn't seem to care. He took it and stood impatiently by the door as Burt got his shoes and coat on. "You need a jacket." Kurt frowned at him.

"A jacket will ruin the costume," he whined, sticking out his lower lip. Burt shrugged.

"Fine, you can wear mine if you get cold. Let's go." Kurt opened the door and ran outside and down the driveway. "You gotta wait, kiddo! I don't want to lose you in the dark, okay?" Kurt nodded and took his hand. There were already several families walking about the neighborhood. Burt let Kurt decide where to go on his own. He skipped down the sidewalk instead of walking normally. Burt let him eat a few pieces of candy as they walked from house to house, and it was definitely giving him energy.

"Can I go to that house?" he asked. Their neighborhood was mostly full of young families and couples, but Ms. Harris was going on eighty years old. She lived alone, and her house honestly seemed kind of creepy, especially since it was Halloween. There were no lights on except for a single porch lamp, but other kids had just come from her house, so she was obviously giving out candy.

"Yeah, go ring the doorbell. Don't forget to say thank you," he reminded him, giving him a little push. Burt stood back by the mailbox and waited for him. He wasn't paying attention to what happened, but Kurt came running back to him, obviously upset. "Hey, what's the matter? What happened?" Kurt sniffled and his chin trembled.

"She said I looked like a g-girl, and boys shouldn't be ballerinas," he choked out. Burt was afraid of that happening. He didn't expect an elderly woman to critique his costume, but things happened.

"Shhh, don't cry," he told him. "Did you say anything back to her?" Kurt nodded.

"I said it's Halloween and I could be whatever I wanted," he said. "She gave me a piece of candy and shut the door." Burt pulled him against him and picked him up.

"You stood up for yourself," he said. "You did the right thing. You can be a ballerina or whatever you want on Halloween. No one pushes the Hummel's around. Do you want to go home?" Kurt shook his head and wiggled out of his grip.

"No, I have to get more candy!" he cried. "We've wasted too much time!" Kurt took him by the hand and dragged him to the next house. Burt hurried to keep up with him. He wanted to go back and say something to that woman, but wasn't sure what to do. Kurt didn't seem upset anymore, but he didn't want to let people get away with saying hurtful things like that to him. It was times like that when he wished Elizabeth was still around. She was good with handling those sorts of things.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

Halloween has always been my favorite holiday. I take dressing up a little too seriously. Once time I went as Lady Gaga, and the year after that I was Regina George from Mean Girls.

And also Elizabeth would've marched up to that lady's door and chewed her out for being rude to Kurt. The end.


	33. Thanksgiving

When Kurt woke up, he realized what day it was instantly. He threw his blankets off of him and snuck down the stairs quietly so he wouldn't wake his dad up. It was so early the sun was just beginning to rise. Kurt had been counting down the days since the beginning of November. It was Thanksgiving and he was allowed to cook everything. His mom had a special cookbook for holidays and Kurt had been looking at the recipes for Thanksgiving Day. Since it was just him and his dad, it wouldn't be too hard to cook for two. They had gone to the grocery store and bought everything he would need, and Kurt was excited to be able to do it all after he'd seen his mom do it for so many years.

He pulled up a chair next to the counter so he could easily get up and down. Kurt had a turkey to cook, potatoes to mash, and cranberry sauce to make. And then there was cheesecake for dessert. Kurt gave in and let his dad just buy a cheesecake since it took a long time to make one. It didn't matter to him though. He loved any kind of cheesecake, homemade or not.

There was so much to do, but Kurt didn't know where to start. His dad didn't like him using the oven unsupervised, but he could use the stove to make the cranberry sauce. Kurt read the directions carefully and stood on the chair so he could see what he was doing. He boiled water and sugar, then added the cranberries. He wore oven mitts just in case. He burned himself trying to make a birthday cake for his dad and it hurt a lot, so he Kurt didn't want to take any chances.

Once he finished cooking the cranberries, he put it in a bowl to stay in the fridge until they were ready to eat. He heard his dad coming down the stairs and he turned around.

"You're already cooking?" he asked. Kurt nodded proudly.

"I made cranberry sauce. I used Mom's recipe," he told him. "I need to make the turkey now that you're up. I don't need any help, though." His dad stepped around him and started to make coffee. Kurt didn't understand why he always drank coffee in the mornings. He had tasted it before and thought it was gross. It tasted bitter and wasn't nearly as good as hot chocolate.

"You can go ahead and get started," he told him. Kurt tried to follow all the steps on the recipe, but his dad had to step in and help him some. Hopefully it would turn out good. Kurt didn't want them to not have any good food on Thanksgiving. His dad insisted on helping him with the mashed potatoes, but they looked pretty good, in Kurt's opinion.

Once it was time to eat, his dad turned on a football game and they just ate on the couch. Kurt wanted to sit at the kitchen table, but he didn't say anything. He was disappointed in the food he made. He had expected it to turn out like his mom always made it, but the turkey was too dry, the potatoes too lumpy, and the cranberry sauce was just disgusting.

Kurt wanted his mom to be there. She could fix the food the right way and make them sit at the table. He didn't want to watch football all day. They didn't even pray or say what they were thankful for. Kurt was thankful for his dad, even though it wasn't very easy to talk to him. He didn't want to eat his food anymore. It was gross. He set his plate on the coffee table and waited for his dad to be finished so he could have cheesecake.

"This food's pretty good, kiddo," he told him. Kurt sighed.

"No it's not," he grumbled. "I did it all wrong. Mommy made it better. I didn't cook any of it right." His dad paused the TV.

"Don't say that," he told him. Kurt crossed his arms. "If it weren't for you we wouldn't have anything to eat." Kurt supposed that was true, but he still felt bad about ruining Thanksgiving. "Let's have some dessert. Then I'll do the dishes. You deserve to rest after cooking all that." Kurt wasn't going to argue. He was pretty tired, but still had room for cheesecake. His dad brought him some and he ate slowly, watching and trying to understand the football game. There were commercials for Black Friday, and Kurt wanted to go shopping so badly. He had never been before, but his mommy always went in the middle of the night. It seemed like fun.

His dad didn't seem to care that dinner was messed up, but Kurt was still bothered by it. Thanksgiving wasn't the same anymore, not without his mom there to help.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

Sorry for not updating this in a few days! After I post this I'm going to work on the Christmas chapter, so it should be done in time for tomorrow.

Anyways, I can see how Kurt would have such high expectations, and because he's so proud and confident he would naturally be upset when things didn't turn out how he had hoped.


	34. Christmas

Of all the holidays Burt had had to learn how to handle on his own, Christmas had to be the hardest. The year before he was still in such a daze from his wife's death that he forgot about it until the night before. That was always a good thing. He grabbed Kurt and drove him to get a Christmas tree at 9:30 at night, then left him with the babysitter. It was a miracle Lindsay agreed to come at 10 o'clock on Christmas Eve, but once he explained what was going on she showed right up. Burt dug the tree decorations out of the garage and left them to that while he spent literally hundreds of dollars on presents for him. It was the best thing ever seeing Kurt's face on Christmas morning.

But it was different this year. Burt was actually aware Christmas was coming. He got the tree the weekend after Thanksgiving and surprised Kurt with it, so he had been decorating it nonstop. Burt hired someone to hang Christmas lights around the outside of the house. He tried to get Kurt to tell him what he wanted from Santa, but he wasn't very clear about it. Burt hoped to get one more year from him, one more year of believing in Santa.

Elizabeth would take him to the mall every year to sit on Santa's lap, and they had quite the collection of pictures from over the years. But Kurt didn't want to go anymore, and he wouldn't say why. Burt just gave up, telling himself he would buy whatever he thought Kurt would like. He was so hard to shop for.

The day of Kurt's Christmas party at school was the last day before Christmas break. Burt left the garage early and picked him up, so he wouldn't have to take the bus. He took him home and left him with Lindsay while he went to the mall. He really had no other time to go, and Christmas was just a week away.

He went to the mall rather than Toys R Us. Kurt didn't really seem to want to play with toys anymore. He was into clothes and shoes and stuff Burt didn't pay much attention to. Kurt liked to dress up, even just to go to school. He didn't want to wear jeans and T-shirts and hoodies. He wanted dress pants, with button up shirts and bow ties. If only his school had a uniform. It would be a lot easier. Burt bought him mostly clothes and a few books, and he took everything to the garage and kept it in his office so Kurt wouldn't go looking for his presents. He could get Jake or Tony to help him wrap them.

By Christmas Eve he had all his presents for Kurt wrapped, and they were up in the attic of the house. He considered just leaving them in the basement, but the kid would somehow find them. Kurt got all dressed up, and they went to the service at church. Elizabeth had been strict about going every Sunday, and Kurt seemed to like it so Burt did his best to get them both there on time on Sunday mornings.

It ran late, and Kurt was stressing out about leaving cookies for Santa. Burt wanted him to get to bed, so they stopped at the store and bought a box of sugar cookies. Kurt set out three of them on a plate and poured a full glass of milk and left it by the fireplace. Burt tucked him into bed and stayed up, wanting to be sure he was completely asleep.

He tried to be as quiet as possible getting his presents down from the attic. Thankfully none of them were too big, and he didn't drop anything. He set them all down underneath the tree. They weren't wrapped very fancy, but he did his best. Burt ate one of the cookies and drank some of the milk, and checked on Kurt again. He was out like a light, so Burt went to bed himself.

Burt was surprised that Kurt didn't come running into his room, making him get up so he could open his presents already. When Burt got up it was pushing nine o'clock, and Kurt was patiently sitting on the couch waiting for him.

"You could've woken me up, buddy," he told him. "How long have you been down here?"

"I don't know," he shrugged.

"Well, go on. You can open your presents." Burt could tell he was itching to rip into them. He made himself coffee and sat on the couch as Kurt carefully peeled away all the wrapping paper. He made a big show of all of his gifts, holding them up for Burt to see. Once he had everything unwrapped he folded the clothes into stacks and carried them to his room. When he came back down the stairs several minutes later he was already wearing one of his new outfits. Burt didn't understand why Kurt was so into that stuff, but if it was the only thing he wanted, Burt wasn't complaining.

Somehow it just didn't feel like Christmas. Sure, they had a tree with lights on it and everything, but there were no gingerbread cookies, no Christmas carols turned up too loud on the radio, and none of Elizabeth's Christmas dinners. But he and Kurt were still a family, and that was better than any material gift to Burt.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

I've always wondered when Kurt first got really interested in fashion and his fancy wardrobe and stuff, but I bet it started at an early age. He would be that kid who wears designer clothes to elementary school. And no one starts to tease him about it until middle school.


	35. New Year's Eve

Burt changed the channel on the TV and looked over at Kurt. His nine year old son was dozing off beside him on the couch. He knew he was going to be mad at him if he let him sleep through it. It was the first year Kurt was allowed to stay up until midnight for New Years Eve, but he was having a hard time staying awake. He'd fallen asleep twice already.

"Hey, wake up kiddo," Burt said, patting his back. Kurt jerked up and blinked several times, then rubbed his eyes.

"Sorry," Kurt mumbled. "What time is it?"

"Just past 10:30. You can go to bed if you're too tired, bud. You don't have to stay up until midnight." Kurt shook his head.

"I have to see what happens," he insisted. "I've never seen a new year before." Burt didn't have the heart to tell him that nothing special happened when the clock hit midnight. He decided to let Kurt figure that one out on his own.

"It's just over an hour," he told him. "Do you want to watch a movie?" Kurt nodded, still sleepy. Burt put on Peter Pan and watched the movie with him. Kurt fought to stay awake through it, and eventually curled up on the couch, too exhausted to fight it. It was only twenty minutes until midnight, but Burt didn't want to wake him up. He started back to school in just a few days, and he'd be falling asleep in class if his sleep schedule was messed up. Burt picked him up carefully and carried him up the stairs. Kurt hadn't put on pajamas, so he just let him sleep in his clothes so he wouldn't have to wake him up.

Burt looked down at him as he tucked him in and kissed him on the forehead. Kurt didn't wake up. He must've been worn out to already be sound asleep. He knew he wanted to stay up to see the New Year, but he didn't want him to be disappointed. There was always next year.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

This is kind of very short but I didn't feel it needed to be any longer. My first year I stayed up until midnight I was upset nothing exciting happened, and I can see Kurt being that same way.


	36. No One to Help

Kurt Hummel had a problem. He wasn't sure what to do, or even if he should tell anyone. His dad probably wouldn't know what to do, and his teacher wasn't any help. She was oblivious. Mercedes had helped him some, but she couldn't be there on the bus or in class.

Kurt didn't know David's last name. Well, he did, but it was weird and he couldn't pronounce it. He was a lot bigger than Kurt, and was mean to him. He made rude comments about Kurt's clothes, but those didn't bother him. Kurt knew he was just jealous that his daddy didn't buy him designer outfits. The part that got to Kurt was when he would stick his leg out to try to trip him, or push him down the slide at recess. Mercedes had defended him when he got pushed off of the monkey bars, but no one else seemed to notice, and that was the worst.

"Lay off my boy Kurt," Mercedes said to him, getting in his face even though he was taller than her, too. "He didn't do nothing to you." David pushed Kurt on the shoulder, and he stepped back but didn't fall. David made a face at him and ran off. "It's okay," Mercedes told him. "He's stupid. Let's go swing."

Kurt followed her over to the swing set and they took turns pushing each other. Kurt was glad Mercedes had done something about David, but he knew it wouldn't stop anytime soon.

When he got off the bus at his dad's garage after school, Kurt found him in his office.

"Hey, kiddo," he greeted. "Have a good day at school?"

"Mm hmm," he hummed. His dad wouldn't understand if he tried to tell him what had happened on the playground. His mom would know what to do. She would hug him and tell him how to get David to leave him alone. But she wasn't there. Kurt told himself he could handle it. It wasn't easy without his mom around, but he had no other option.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

Another short chapter, but I didn't think it needed any more than that. I figured this would be the age where Kurt started to hide his problems from his dad. He became distant and they would pretty much only have small talk, and he had no clue Kurt was being bullied until his junior year. At first Kurt had no clue how to stand up for himself, but then he learned he could fight back with the comments he made, and that would throw the bullies off because they didn't understand the big words he was using.


	37. Snow Day

When Kurt woke up and looked at his alarm clock, he realized he was late and his jaw dropped. It was already 7:30, and school started in twenty minutes. He threw his covers off of him and opened his closet for something to wear. It was the end of January, so he needed something warm. Black denim pants and a button up shirt with a cardigan were the only things that matched, so he hurried to get dressed.

He went into the bathroom, and his hair was a mess. He quickly combed and sprayed it, and then brushed his teeth. He was going to have to skip breakfast, even though that was horribly unhealthy. He flipped off the bathroom light and went into the hallway.

"Dad!" he called. It was too cold to walk or ride his bike to school. "Dad?" he went into his dad's room, and he was still in bed. "Dad, come on, I hafta go to school!" Kurt had had perfect attendance all year. He couldn't be tardy. His dad stirred and looked down at him.

"Buddy, did you not look outside?" he asked. Kurt was confused.

"What? Why?" he asked. His dad gestured to the window, and Kurt pulled the curtain back. The ground was covered in snow, and it was still coming down. Kurt smiled and his eyes lit up. "It's snowing!"

"Mm hmm," his dad said. "School's closed, and I'm not going to the garage." Kurt left the room without another word and went back to his closet. He grabbed his thick winter sweater and some gloves. He didn't bother to put on boots or anything. His purple Converses would be fine.

"I'm going outside!" he called as he walked down the stairs. Kurt grabbed a granola bar from the pantry and ate it while he put his shoes on. He didn't want to go out in the front yard, because if people drove by they wouldn't get to see the pretty snow; all they would see was muddy puddles and footprints. Kurt decided to go out in the backyard. He could make a snowman and as many snow angels as he wanted.

It was colder than he realized outside, but Kurt told himself he would adjust. Making a snowman was the first thing on his to-do list.

When he was little and it would snow, his mom would always help him roll the snowball until it was almost as tall as he was. He would try to help her lift the body and head on top of the base, but it was too heavy and his dad would have to do it. He and his mom would make snow angels next to each other, and then when he couldn't feel his fingers or toes anymore, she would make him hot chocolate and help change him into cozy pajamas. His dad would light up the fireplace, and then Kurt and his mom would watch Disney movies on the couch.

It was like that every single year, but Kurt was alone now. He got started on his snowman, but he wasn't strong enough to pick up the second snowball. He squatted down and tried to lift it up, but it broke in half and Kurt fell back onto the ground. He wasn't upset as much as he was frustrated. He decided to put the snowman on hold and make a snow angel. He made two- one for himself and one for his mom. Those weren't nearly as hard to make as a snowman was, and he was finished in less than five minutes. Underneath the first one he traced "Kurt" with his finger in the snow, and "Mommy" underneath the second one.

It didn't look like his dad was coming outside, but Kurt managed to fix his snowman on his own, even though it was sort of lumpy and deformed. It didn't matter. It would melt in a few days anyway. Kurt couldn't go inside to get a carrot for its nose because his dad would get mad that he tracked snow into the house. It was going to have to be a faceless snowman for the time being. Kurt turned around to make a second, smaller one, but something hit him in the back. He turned around, and his dad stood on the porch, holding a snowball in his hand.

"Dad!" he cried. He was surprised he had come outside. Kurt threw the little snowball at him that he had in his hand, but it only hit his feet. Kurt ducked behind his snowman and hurried to make more. His dad stayed on the porch, making a lawn chair his fort. Once he had seven or eight, Kurt stood up and tried his best to get him. Only one or two actually hit him, but Kurt didn't care.

His dad was a lot better than Kurt was at throwing them, but it was still the most enjoyable thing of the whole day. It was impossible to tell how long they were out there because there was no trace of the sun. When Kurt started to feel cold and wet all over, they called it quits and went inside.

"You want hot chocolate?" his dad asked. Kurt nodded as he took his shoes off. "I'll get it started. Go take your clothes off, and leave them in your bathroom if they're wet." Kurt went upstairs and changed into a long sleeve T-shirt and pajama pants. He had a bruise or two already forming from the snowball fight, but he was numb and couldn't feel anything. His dad had his hot chocolate ready for him when he came back downstairs, and Kurt curled up on the couch with it. There was no Disney movie, but it didn't matter. Snow days could be fun, even without his mommy around.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

I haven't really been working on this story for a couple of days, so here's a longer chapter! I hope you like it!


	38. School Pictures

In his year and a half of being a single parent, Burt Hummel had learned a lot about Kurt. He learned that when they were riding in the car the radio always had to be on. He learned that he would probably tuck him into bed and read to him every night until he went to college. And above all, he learned that Kurt could go from his cheery little boy to throwing a tantrum in two seconds flat. But then, once everything was resolved, it was like nothing had ever happened.

Burt looked up from his paperwork as his son entered his office and slammed the door shut behind him. He walked over to the couch and set his backpack down.

"Have a good day?" he asked him.

"Mm hmm," kurt hummed. He sat down and swung his feet back and forth. Burt knew something was bugging him. He was never so fidgety.

"Anything happen?" he pressed. Kurt shook his head and began to take out his homework folder. There was a bright blue envelope sticking out of his backpack, and Kurt shoved it back in to try and hide it. "What's that?"

"Nothing," Kurt insisted. "It's nothing." Burt knew he was lying. The kid was good at hiding things, but Burt had learned how to get him to crack.

"Let me see," he told him. He was certain it wasn't anything _bad_. Kurt was a good kid. It couldn't be like a behavior slip or something. Kurt didn't move. He acted like he hadn't even heard him. "One... two..."

There was something about counting to three that always worked. Kurt jumped up and pulled the packet out of his bag. Burt still had no clue what it was. Kurt shuffled over to his desk and held it out, face down. Burt flipped it over to look at it. It was his school pictures.

"They l-look _awful_," Kurt choked out, rubbing at his eyes. Burt didn't think they were awful at all. The kid had on a white shirt and a bright blue bowtie- his favorite one from his little collection. He looked so much like his mother in the picture. The way he had dimples on just one cheek, and how his ears stuck out when he looked straight at the camera.

"They're not awful, buddy," he reassured him, giving him a pat on the arm. "I love 'em. I'm putting a big one in the living room and the little ones in my wallet whether you like it or not. You look handsome." Burt had learned not to call Kurt "cute" to his face. He made that mistake once and had to listen to his nine-year-old son lecture him on why girls were "cute" and boys were "handsome".

"I don't want them," Kurt grumbled, stamping his foot on the ground. Burt didn't want to deal with a temper tantrum from him. It was just school pictures, not life or death.

"What's wrong with them?" Burt asked. He didn't see how there could possibly be a problem with them. He liked them even better than his third grade pictures.

"My h-hair's messed up. My bow tie's crooked," he whined. Kurt could certainly make a big deal out of nothing. If Kurt hadn't have pointed it out, he wouldn't have seen his crooked tie.

"I think it's just fine, kiddo. You don't have to look at them," Burt said to him. "I'll keep them for myself. Go start your homework. I'm about ready to leave." Kurt didn't say anything else, and obediently did as he was told. Burt looked at the pictures again and wished for a moment that Kurt could stay that little forever.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

I can imagine Kurt being handed his school pictures and getting upset in class because they didn't turn out the way he wanted. But burt thinks they're just fine and carries one in his wallet and shows it off to everyone because he's so proud of his kid.


	39. Chickenpox

Burt pushed open Kurt's bedroom door to make sure he was up and getting ready. The kid usually woke himself up for school, but sometimes he needed a little help getting around in the mornings. Kurt was still in bed with only the top of his head peeking out from the covers.

"Wake up, kiddo," he told him, patting him on the back. "Come on, it's Thursday, just one more day." Kurt stirred and rolled over. He slowly sat up and pushed his blankets off of him. Burt frowned. The kid had red spots all over his face. It looked like acne, but he was only nine. He couldn't possibly be at that stage yet. Burt grabbed his arm and pulled up his sleeve. The red specks were on his hands and arms as well.

"What happened to you?" he asked. He didn't know what was wrong. Whatever it was, they seemed to be all over his body.

Kurt yanked his arm away and pulled his sleeve pack down. Then, he got up and walked slowly over to his closet. "I was working on my art project last night. I splattered paint on me." Burt knew that was a lie. He'd tucked Kurt into bed the night before, and he was just fine. He told him that, but Kurt answered right back.

"I couldn't sleep. I got up and finished it with my paint, but it splashed back on me, and it was too late to take another shower. I can wash it off when I get to school, though," he insisted. "I can't be late."

Burt was going to make him take another shower, but the kid was adamant about maintaining his perfect attendance record. If he wore pants and a long shirt then he only had his face and hands to worry about. Burt left him alone to pick out his clothes, and he went down to the kitchen to make his lunch. He threw together a turkey sandwich with the crust cut off of the bread, and put some apple slices and baby carrots in his lunchbox.

Kurt came down the stairs and put his coat on, and Burt drove him to school. He seemed extra tired, and he even dozed off on the way. Burt woke him up when they got there, and Kurt got out of the truck without saying anything. Burt thought he was acting odd, but it was understandable he would be tired if he was up working on his thing for art.

At the garage Burt got started working on a transmission, and it wasn't even ten in the morning when he got the call. It was Kurt's school nurse, and she said he had a fever and was showing signs of chickenpox. Burt mentally slapped himself in the face. He wasn't sure how he could be so stupid. The kid wasn't doing art at all. Those red marks were _chickenpox._ Burt left to go get him, frustrated with Kurt for lying to him and angry with himself for not realizing it.

Kurt seemed worn out by the time Burt got to the school. He decided to lecture him later about lying to him when he was sick, and he took him home. He had no clue how to take care of chickenpox. He called Kurt's doctor while he was changing into pajamas again, and he scheduled an appointment for the next day.

Once he hung up the phone, Kurt came down the stairs, dragging his blanket behind him. Kurt had had that thing since he was a baby, and he didn't seem interested in getting rid of it any time soon.

"How are you feeling?" Burt asked. He was going to do his best to take care of him, but it was kind of hard when he didn't know what he wanted.

"Itchy," Kurt mumbled, scratching at the back of his hand. The doctor told Burt it was important that he didn't scratch. He gave him Benadryl and let him drink ginger ale. Kurt curled up on the couch, huddled under his blanket. Burt tucked him in with a pillow and thicker blanket, and watched him to make sure he didn't keep scratching. The nurse said he had a fever of 101, so it wasn't too terribly high, but it was a fever nonetheless.

"Can I go to school tomorrow?" Kurt murmured. Burt ruffled his hair.

"No, we're gonna go to the doctor tomorrow. Maybe if you're feeling a little better you can go on Monday." Kurt nodded and his eyes slid shut. Burt closed the curtains so it would be dark enough for him to fall asleep. Hopefully the doctor would give him some medicine so it wouldn't be too hard for Burt to take care of him. Taking care of the kid was hard on a normal basis, but when he was sick and had a rash all over his body, things were bound to get complicated.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

So I was reading one of Keitorin Asthore's stories, which you know I do a lot, and Burt mentioned to Carole that once he sent Kurt off to school with chickenpox, and so I wrote it! So here you go, I hope you liked it!


	40. Middle of the Night

Burt knew Kurt had a hard time sleeping. It started after his mom died and never got better. He took about an hour and a half to fall asleep on a normal night, and if he woke up with a bad dream it was hard to calm him down. When it was particularly bad Burt gave him Nyquil to knock him out, but that left him groggy and sleepy the next day at school. He made the mistake of letting the kid drink iced tea with his dinner that night, and it was full of caffeine. Burt gave him two tablespoons of Nyquil, so he hopefully wouldn't be awake for very long.

He tucked Kurt into bed snugly and read to him a chapter from his Harry Potter book before he turned off his lamp, hoping that he would get through the night without waking up. Burt checked on him again before he went to bed an hour later, and the kid was out like a light and snoring softly. Hopefully he could make it through the night and not get up.

Burt knew it was too good to be true. He woke up and heard Kurt in his bathroom, and he looked over at his alarm clock to see what time it was. It was 4:30 in the morning, and if it was that close to time to wake up then Kurt probably wasn't going to go back to sleep.

The kid's bathroom light stayed on for a long time, so Burt got up to see what he was doing. He knocked on the door softly so he wouldn't startle him.

"Kurt? What're you doing? It's the middle of the night," he told him. He heard a click that was the door unlocking, and Burt stepped inside his little bathroom. Kurt was pushing back his shower curtain and about to start the water. "Why are you taking a shower at four in the morning?"

"I'm sorry," Kurt apologized. "I didn't mean to! I didn't mean to wake you up. It's okay, you can go back to bed."

"Tell me what's wrong," Burt sighed. Kurt sat down on the closed toilet seat and put his chin down to his chest. He began to cry, and wiped at his eyes. It was too early in the morning for Burt to try and figure out on his own why the kid was so upset, and he just wished he would hurry up and spit it out so they could both go back to bed.

"Why're you crying?" he asked. "What happened?" he tilted his son's chin up so he could see his face.

"I wet the bed," he mumbled. Burt frowned. Kurt hadn't done that since he was five. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to! I was trying to fix everything but I woke you up." Burt wrapped his arms around him, since he was obviously embarrassed and upset by it.

"It's okay," he told him. "You didn't mean to. You should've come and woken me up first." Kurt sniffled and wiped at his eyes again. "Take a shower and get cleaned up. You can sleep with me for the rest of the night, okay?" Kurt nodded, not looking at him. Burt left him alone and went into his room. He put his sheets in the wash and left him a new pair of pajamas on his bathroom counter before going back to bed.

He heard Kurt come in quietly, and Burt wasn't sure how much time had passed. He had put his baby blanket in the washer, and that meant he probably wasn't going to sleep very well. Burt covered him up and then rolled back over to go to sleep.

When he woke up again, Kurt had all the blankets wrapped around him, and he was curled up at the foot of the bed. Burt wasn't exactly sure how that happened, but the kid had slept through the night, for once.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

Someone messaged me and prompted this, and I could see how Kurt would have sleep troubles after his mom died, and then Burt goes and drugs him so he'll just go to bed.


	41. Baseball Game

Burt was excited to take Kurt to his first baseball game. The kid was nine and a half, but he'd either been too young to go before, and after his mom died he didn't really want to do much of anything, so Burt thought it would be good for him. He'd wanted to take Kurt to a game since he was a baby, but they were just getting their first chance to go.

Kurt was stressing over what he was going to wear, so Burt picked out a T-shirt and cargo shorts for him, since it was starting to warm up, but Kurt refused to go if he had to wear that. Burt left him to wear whatever he wanted. They had to drive all the way down to Cincinnati, so they needed to get going.

Kurt came down the stairs twenty minutes later wearing A polo shirt and the shorts Burt picked out for him. He looked cute when he was dressed his age and not wearing some of the dressier clothes he wore to school.

"Let's go, kiddo," Burt said, grabbing his keys. Kurt didn't seem to be overly excited about it, but Burt was glad they were doing it. He'd been dreaming about taking his kid to sports games since Kurt was a baby.

Kurt read his book in the car throughout the whole drive until Burt made him put it down when they were just a few miles away. Burt wanted him to have a good time, even if he didn't like baseball.

"Hold my hand," Burt told him. "I don't want you getting lost." Kurt nodded and obediently held onto him. Burt got them inside and then they went to their seats. Burt bought the most expensive tickets so that Kurt would be able to see everything. They hadn't eaten dinner, so Burt took him to go get something eat. "You can have whatever you want. Do you want a hotdog or some pizza or something?"

"Do they have salad?" Kurt asked. The kid liked to eat healthy, but that wasn't much of an option.

"No, bud, this is a baseball game," he reminded him. "A hamburger isn't going to kill you." Kurt pointed to the hotdog stand, so Burt bought him one, along with a lemonade and a tub of pink cotton candy. The game was about to start, so Burt walked him back to their seats and they waited for it to get started.

Kurt ate his food as the game went on, but Burt could tell he really wasn't enjoying it. He tried to explain the game to him, but Kurt kept asking so many questions. He wasn't complaining about being there, but Burt knew he'd rather be reading his book or be in his room practicing his dances for ballet.

"What are they wearing?" Kurt asked, pointing to the players. "Are those stirrup pants?" Burt hadn't been paying attention to what the players were wearing, but it seemed to be a big deal to Kurt.

"Yeah, those are stirrup pants," he told him. "Is that okay with you?" Kurt made a face.

"No one should wear stirrup pants. Ever." Burt smiled and shook his head. He drove Kurt two hours to see a baseball game and all he cared about were the uniforms. Only his kid would do that.

Halfway into the game the sun started to set and Burt could tell Kurt was getting tired of being there.

"Do you want to go home?" he asked. Kurt paused, and then shook his head. "Is that the truth?" Kurt nodded, so Burt kept watching the game. Kurt pretended to be interested for a little bit, but Burt knew he had no clue what was going on. The other team made a homerun and Kurt cheered; not knowing it was for the wrong team.

At the eighth inning Burt felt him drop his head onto his shoulder, and he slept for the rest of the game. Burt didn't mind. At least he decided to stay. He decided to leave before it was over so Kurt wouldn't wake up from the crowds. They were losing anyways. Burt picked him up and held him carefully so he wouldn't wake up.

Burt buckled him into the front seat, and Kurt began to wake up a little bit.

"Dad? Are we home?" he asked sleepily.

"No, buddy, we're just about to leave. You go back to sleep. We'll be home soon." Kurt nodded and shut his eyes again. Burt closed the door quietly and began to drive home. The kid curled up in his seat and was asleep again within minutes. It definitely didn't go how Burt had expected, but he got what he wanted. He'd taken him to his first baseball game, and even though Kurt fell asleep, Burt was happy they did it.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

In the Laryngitis episode burt mentioned that Kurt couldn't get through a baseball game without bringing up the fact that the players are in stirrup pants. I thought it would be cute to write their first baseball game. Burt really wants him to have a good time, so Kurt tries his best to pretend like he's having fun.

I have some more chapters written for this story, and I'd love to hear any ideas if you have them! You can leave a prompt/request/idea in a comment and I'll see it!


	42. Field Trip

Burt wasn't exactly sure how he got involved… it just kind of happened. Kurt's fourth grade class was going on a field trip to the zoo, and they needed parents to help keep track of all 24 kids. Burt didn't think twice about it at first. There were plenty of stay at home moms that would do the job. But when Kurt checked off the little box on the permission slip right away, Burt knew he couldn't just cover it up in white out. He was going to have to go to the zoo with a bunch of nine year olds for the whole day.

It was only March, but it was pretty hot for spring. Kurt didn't like to wear shorts, but Burt convinced him that he would burn up if he wore his usual dress clothes. All the kids in his class had to wear matching tie-dye shirts so it would be easy to keep track of them.

Burt had to be in charge of just four kids, since the class was splitting up. There was Kurt and his little friend he always had sleepovers and tea parties with. He couldn't remember her name, though. Mackenzie? No, Mercedes. That was it. There was a tall boy with red hair and freckles that talked way too much, and a girl that was even smaller than Kurt, with brown hair kept out of her face by a headband.

It was just four kids. Burt could be in charge of four kids for a few hours without any of them getting hurt or lost. The teacher gave them a list of animals they had to visit, so they started at the top. They had to go identify at least four different species of birds, and that took them about thirty seconds. The redhead kid started whining since the birds were chirping and squawking loudly, so they left.

Next they had to go look at the reptiles. That was kind of boring, since the turtles didn't do very much. They all got excited, nonetheless, and the redhead boy said something about them being so big that he could ride one to school. Burt was pretty sure if that was his kid then he wouldn't be very patient with him.

Burt let the kids walk a little bit ahead of him, as long as he could see them, but Kurt held back and stayed with him.

"Are you having fun?" he asked. Kurt nodded and looked at the ground. Burt knew he was having a good time, he just didn't act like it. Next they visited the lions and tigers and African animals. There weren't a lot, but they got to hear the lion roar, which the kids thought was cool. They seemed to be getting tired, so Burt let them buy some drinks in the restaurant.

"I want to see the monkeys!" the little brunette girl exclaimed. The rest of them began to nag as well, so Burt took them to the monkeys. It was crowded, so they were obviously very popular. He picked Kurt up and let him sit on his shoulders so he could see better. After that the other three wanted to be held up so they could see, so Burt took turns picking them up.

They ate lunch in the same restaurant they went to before, and then Burt let them play on the playground so they could burn off some energy. He was surprised at how well things were going. He expected them to whine and get bored within the first hour, but they were doing just fine.

They all wanted to go see the polar bears and sea lions, so Burt took them there before they had to meet back at the entrance to leave. It was crowded, and Burt lost track of the tiny girl with the headband, but he found her soon enough. At least it wasn't Kurt who had gotten lost.

Burt let them look around the gift shop for a little bit and he bought Kurt a stuffed polar bear. The kid had plenty of stuffed animals, but all of the other kids were buying something so he didn't want to be left out.

After it was time to go, Burt drove him home in the truck so they could go straight home. Kurt complained about his feet hurting, and he used his new bear as a pillow so he could curl up in his seat. Burt was kind of glad he decided to go with him. It was nice to see Kurt with his friends and not just hear about what happened at school. And it was nice to see Kurt having fun. The kid had grown up too much, and Burt didn't get to see him be a kid too much anymore.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

Oh, Burt Hummel and kids. He likes kids, but when they're all talking at once and he's trying to keep them from getting lost and such it gets overwhelming. But he did just fine.

Oh, also, the little brunette girl is Rachel Berry. She's just not friends with Kurt and Mercedes yet.


	43. Pet Disaster

"Dad, where's Maria?" Kurt asked, rushing down the stairs. Burt sighed. He knew the kid was going to have to find out the truth sooner or later.

It happened that afternoon, while Kurt was at his friend's house. Burt opened the front door to go get the mail, and his stupid little cat slipped out. Burt honestly tried everything to chase it down, but it jumped over the neighbor's fence, and Burt heard dogs barking. Big dogs. Burt rang the doorbell of the house, but no one was home and the gate was locked. He knew that was the end of that. Kurt was going to to be upset and sad, but Burt didn't know what he was supposed to do.

When Kurt came asking where his precious cat was, Burt didn't know what to tell him. It would break his heart if he learned the truth.

"Dad, I can't find Maria," he repeated, sounding worried.

"Come here, bud," Burt said, patting the seat next to him on the couch. Kurt sat next to him, still looking panicked. Burt knew he was going to hate him. He could buy him a new pet, but it wouldn't be the same.

"I went outside this afternoon, and when I opened the door Maria got out. I tried to grab her, but she went into the neighbor's backyard. It was the Robinson's, with the big dogs. I tried ringing the doorbell, but no one was home and I couldn't get into the backyard," he explained. Kurt's eyes watered up, and Burt tried to comfort him, but his son pushed him away.

He was the worst dad in the world. That stupid little kitten was the only thing he'd wanted for his birthday the year before. He was so dumb to let it out of the house. But it was an accident. Kurt had to understand that. He could be mad and upset and never talk to him again, but he had to know it was an accident.

"I'm sorry, kiddo," he said. That was all he could say. Kurt was curled up in a little ball next to him on the couch, crying into his hands. Burt tired to pick him up again, and he didn't object. "I'm so sorry, buddy." He knew how much that cat had meant to him. Sometimes she was his only friend.

"I w-want Maria!" he cried. Burt didn't understand how he could get so attached to a little cat, but it was his pet and he loved it, and if it was that important to Kurt, then it was important to Burt as well.

"Shh, shh, I know," Burt soothed. "It's gonna be okay. I'll get you another pet. I'll make it up to you." He knew he couldn't ever replace his first pet, but he could try his best to make things right.

Kurt stopped crying when the doorbell rang. Burt set him on the couch and got up to answer it. It was Mrs. Robinson from next door. In her arms was Maria. Burt sighed in relief. The kid was going to be so happy. It killed Burt when Kurt was so upset like he had been.

"Mr. Hummel, I found your son's cat up a tree in our backyard. My husband nearly fell off a ladder trying to get him down," the woman scoffed.

"It's not a him, it's a girl!" Kurt corrected her, running up and taking his cat back. "Thank you for saving her!"

"Thanks for doing that," Burt told her. "I was afraid your dogs got to her." The woman sighed and turned around, and Burt shut the door.

"Don't ever let her out again," Kurt warned him. "I almost had a heart attack." Burt ruffled his hair. Everything was okay. He was just going to have to be a little more careful.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

Needless to say, Burt isn't very good with animals. But Kurt has his cat back now so yay!


	44. Stomach Flu

Kurt normally loved going to his dad's garage. He always got to help out, and when there wasn't much to do he got to play games on his dad's computer. They usually went every Saturday, from the time Kurt woke up until dinnertime.

But when Kurt woke up, he just didn't want to go. He was tired, and his head and stomach were hurting. He didn't want to do anything but lay in bed under his covers. Kurt hated being sick. It wasn't so bad when his mom was around, but his dad was clueless as to how to take care of him. His mom would feed him homemade soup and watch Sleeping Beauty with him and let him lay in her lap until he fell asleep.

Kurt knew he had to get up, though. His dad couldn't just skip work to take care of him. He would be okay. He told himself he would feel better after he ate breakfast. Kurt got up and put his clothes on, then went down to eat breakfast.

"Morning, buddy. You slept late," his dad said, clapping him on the back. Kurt winced, but didn't let on that anything was wrong.

"Sorry," he apologized, pouring himself some Raisin Bran. He sat at the table and tried to eat, but he felt too bad. He felt like he would throw up, but he hadn't eaten anything, so he knew he would just be feeling awful all day.

Kurt tried to help out at the garage, but he was still so tired. He tried to get comfortable in his dad's office chair, but he couldn't go to sleep. It was the worst, and his dad was still oblivious. His stomach kept feeling worse and worse, and he was still afraid he would throw up. Since he hardly ate at breakfast there wasn't much in his stomach, but he was still horribly nauseous.

Kurt somehow managed to take a short nap in hopes that he would feel better, but once he woke up he only felt worse. He tried to read his book, but he couldn't focus on it.

Finally he just couldn't take it anymore. He knew he was going to be sick. The bathroom was on the other side of the garage, so he hopped out of the chair and tried to hurry, but he didn't make it. He doubled over and threw up on the tile floor.

"Hey, Kurt, want to help me with a-" Kurt's eyes were watering, but he could tell it was Jake talking to him. "Burt? Burt c'mere!" Kurt moaned and wrapped his arms around his stomach. He hated being sick. He began to cry, and he heard his dad come in.

"Oh, gosh. It's okay, Kurt. You're okay." Kurt threw up a second time on his shoes and cried harder. His dad held a trashcan under his chin, and he got sick a third time, even though there wasn't much left. "It's okay, buddy. Get it out of your system." Kurt shivered and leaned his head on his dad's shoulder. He rubbed his back and sat him down in one of the chairs.

"I'm sorry, Dad," Kurt choked out. "I'm s-sorry!" he wiped at his eyes and shivered more.

"It's okay, kiddo, I'm not mad," his dad told him. "You didn't do anything wrong. Just sit still. We'll get you cleaned up." Kurt drew his knees to his chest and took a breath, trying to calm down. He didn't want to get sick again.

His dad handed him a paper cup of water and dried his tears. Kurt closed his eyes and tried to relax while his dad cleaned up the floor. He felt so bad. He was making him stop working to take care of him.

"Come on, we're going home." Kurt started to protest, but his dad picked him up and held him as he walked to the car.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, wrapping his arm around his neck.

"No no," his dad said. "You're not sorry. You're sick. Why didn't you tell me, Kurt?"

Kurt curled up in his seat and moaned as his dad buckled him in. "I don't know." Kurt didn't want to be burden. He didn't want him to find out he was sick in the first place so he wouldn't have to take time out of his work to take care of him. "I'm okay," he insisted. He leaned his cheek on the cool glass of the car window and sighed. He felt his dad's hand on his cheek and then heard him curse under his breath.

"You're not okay, you have a fever. How long has your stomach hurt?" he asked.

"Not very long," Kurt lied, closing his eyes. His dad didn't say anything else.

Kurt didn't remember getting home. When he woke up he was in his own bed. He was cold, and his stomach still hurt.

"Dad?" he called, holding his blanket a little tighter. He would never admit to anyone that he still slept with his blanket.

His dad came in and sat on the edge of his bed. "Hey, buddy. You slept for a while. How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay," he lied. He didn't want his dad worrying.

"Your temperature was 103 earlier. I called your doctor, but he said it's just the stomach flu. You're gonna be okay. Do you need anything?" he offered. Kurt shook his head. He wasn't hungry, and he didn't want to drink anything in case he threw up again.

"Can you stay in here?" Kurt asked. He didn't want to be alone. His dad scooted up closer to his head and brushed his hair off of his face.

"I'll stay until you go back to sleep. The doctor said you just need to rest and take it easy until your fever's down." Kurt nodded and shut his eyes, turning onto his side. His dad rubbed his back and he managed to relax. He had only been awake for a few minutes, but was already so tired again. "You get some rest, kiddo. I don't want you getting sick like this again."

Kurt would've apologized, but he was too weak to talk. He held his blanket tighter and allowed himself to fall asleep.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

Ugh sweet baby Kurt I hate it when he tries to hide it when he's sick.

I haven't updated this story in like a week, but I'm not going to abandon it I promise! I just have a little writer's block. So this might not get updated everyday, but I want to actually post good writing that I can work on for a few days, and not just a 600 word drabble I spent half an hour on. So please stay tuned!


	45. Dentist

"You're just getting your teeth cleaned," Burt told Kurt for the millionth time as they got out of the truck. "Okay? No cavities, no x-rays, none of that. It won't hurt." Kurt nodded stiffly. The kid was only nine years old, so he still took him to the pediatric dentist. The waiting room was filled with colorful Legos and kids magazines. Burt filled out the forms for him and encouraged him to play with the other kids there, but Kurt didn't want to. He was so nervous.

Kurt had never been fond of the dentist, and even when Elizabeth was alive she couldn't calm him down once he was in the chair. He'd never had a cavity before, and the worst thing to happen to him was when he chipped a tooth when he was five.

"How long will it take?" Kurt asked in a tiny voice. He had his hands folded in his lap and he was swinging his legs off the chair.

"Not very long," Burt assured him. "You'll be just fine. After you're done we can go to the garage and you can help out for a couple hours."

Kurt had a book with him, so he read up until the nurse called his name. He looked over at Burt desperately, like he was trying to decide if he could run out the door quick enough.

"Go on," Burt coaxed. "I'm right behind you." He followed Kurt and the nurse into the room, and Kurt apprehensively climbed up on the chair. The nurse asked him a few questions, and then leaned him back. Kurt freaked out, but slowly relaxed as he realized what was happening. "It's okay, Kurt. She's not gonna hurt you. Just relax. Do you want to hold my hand?" Kurt shook his head stubbornly.

"I'm okay," he said quietly. "I'm not a baby." Burt kept his hand on Kurt's knee so he could tell he was still there. The nurse flipped on a bright light in Kurt's face, and began cleaning his teeth. There was a TV screen on the ceiling so he could watch whatever movie they were playing, but he didn't seem interested at all. The nurse was just cleaning his teeth, but he acted like it was the most painful thing in the world. He tried to turn his head away, and squeezed his eyes shut tight.

"Kurt, you've got to hold still," Burt told him. "It's okay, kiddo." He took his hand, and Kurt squeezed tight. The nurse let him sit up to rinse his mouth out, but he wouldn't lay back down so she could count his teeth.

"No!" he cried, pulling away from her. Burt grabbed him by the shoulder and forced him down.

"You lie still," he told him. "You're fine. The quicker you cooperate the quicker we can leave." Kurt obeyed, and his eyes watered up. Burt let him hold his hand, and he didn't give them any more trouble.

When the actual dentist came in he flossed his teeth and made sure there weren't any problems. Kurt began to cry, and struggled to hold still. Burt shushed him and tried to help him relax, but he wasn't having it.

"Kurt, he's almost done," Burt told him. "You have to sit still, and then we'll get to go. Come on, stop crying." Kurt's sobs died down into whimpers, and he stopped completely by the time the dentist had finished. He let him have a sticker, and gave him a new toothbrush and some floss. Kurt just seemed eager to leave. Burt signed him out, and Kurt pulled on his arm until they walked outside.

"You did good, kiddo," Burt said as they walked to the truck. "Now you don't have to go back for six months. That wasn't so bad, was it?" Kurt shrugged and climbed up in his seat. With any luck the kid would learn how to handle the dentist before he went next time.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

I think I hate the dentist just as much as Kurt does. Like I can't even handle it. Ugh.


	46. Piano Lessons

Summer was the best and worst time of the year. Kurt was out of school, but Burt couldn't afford a babysitter five days a week, so he had to bring him along to work with him. It was fine, but the kid got bored quickly and then Burt would have to take the time to find him a game on the computer or something he could help out on. Kurt needed to spend his summer break doing something worthwhile.

So that was how he signed Kurt up for piano lessons. He had them on Tuesdays and Thursdays from ten in the morning until 12:30. The reason he picked piano was because they had one at home, so Kurt could practice. It wasn't big or fancy, but it had been Elizabeth's, and Burt wasn't getting rid of it. It hadn't done much except collect dust, so having the kid learn piano would put it to good use.

His piano teacher was a retired woman who lived by the garage, so Kurt went over to her house and then Burt would pick him up and let him help him at work for the rest of the day. It gave both of them a break from each other.

After a few weeks the sound of the old piano playing filled the house. Kurt was getting better at it, and he had already learned three songs.

Once he had been taking lessons for a month, his teacher was confident with how well he could play, and decided to include him in the recital coming up at the end of the summer. Kurt was obviously excited, because he spent every moment at home practicing. Burt was proud of him and liked to listen to his songs. Elizabeth would always play the piano in the morning when Kurt was little, and he would come in and start banging on the keys and mess the song up, but she would set him on her lap and let him play along, even though he had no idea what he was doing.

Burt got dressed up, and he went to his recital. Kurt got to play two songs, and he had been so nervous beforehand that he cried, but Burt bought him a bottle of water and dried his tears. He reminded Kurt that he was a Hummel, and his teacher specifically picked him to be in the show. Kurt knew his music forwards and backwards, and Burt was confident in him. He kissed the top of his head and took a seat in the audience.

Kurt was one of the first to play since he was one of the youngest. He played perfectly and didn't miss a note. His songs were easy, but Burt was so proud of him. He stood up and clapped for him, even though he was the only one. He saw Kurt smile at him from the stage, and Burt clapped harder. His son made him so much prouder than he ever thought he could.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

Wow I have kind of been ignoring this story. Sorry guys! Ever since I got back from my vacation I've been way behind on my writing, so this story kind of got pushed to the side. But here is a chapter! I have a few prompts for this that I'll post in a few days, so please keep reading!


	47. Worst Fear

Burt knew Kurt was okay. He knew in the back of his mind that his son was perfectly fine, that he was just overreacting and being stupid. But he wouldn't go back to sleep until he was absolutely certain nothing was wrong.

Burt never dreamed anymore, but the nightmare still replayed in his head. The mere thought of Kurt being in danger frightened him. He had dreamt that Kurt never came home from school, and no one knew where he was, and no one would help find him. It was just scary to think that Kurt was all alone and probably frightened.

He got up and went down the hall to Kurt's bedroom. His nightlight glowed faintly by his closet. Kurt was ten and still used a nightlight just because he had so many sleep problems. Instead of having to be settled down back to sleep after a nightmare, Kurt was able to go back to sleep on his own since it wasn't completely dark.

Burt bent over and kissed his cheek. Kurt looked so little when he slept. It was so hard to believe he was already ten. It had almost been two years since Elizabeth died.

"I love you, buddy," he whispered to him. He didn't tell Kurt he loved him nearly enough. "I'm glad you're okay." Kurt stirred a little, but he didn't wake up. Burt stroked his silky hair back, that was still limp and slightly damp from his shower. Kurt needed a haircut soon.

Before he could stop himself, Burt sneezed. Kurt jerked awake, and Burt sighed. Of course he couldn't be quiet for ten minutes.

"Dad?" Kurt asked, his voice light and sleepy. "Wha's goin' on?"

"I'm sorry, buddy," he apologized. "I was just checking on you. Making sure you were sleeping okay. Go back to sleep." Kurt reached up his arms, and Burt gave him a hug and another kiss. "I love you, kiddo. Go to bed. In the morning we can go have breakfast before we go to the garage. Sound good?"

Kurt nodded in response and tucked his blanket under his arm. It didn't matter to Burt if he was ten years old and still slept with a blanket and a nightlight. Kurt was his whole world, and he wasn't going to let anyone mess with him.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

****Wow I haven't updated this story in forever! This chapter is pretty short, but I'm already working on another, so I'll update this about 2 or 3 times a week now, hopefully. I need a schedule for myself to make sure I don't slack off. But anyways, yay for updates!


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